#i don't know how to explain it junk food would be the best way like.

[a-passing-storm]

I literally cannot find one single platonic Gale & Reader fic!

[wolfiesmoon]

Chocolate-covered strawberries

riddle x gn!reader

have u ever wanted to have a (totally definitely platonic with no romantic feelings involved, wdym? *wink wink*) sleepover w riddle? bcs if so, you might wanna read this

thanks to @chillpanda36 's plant related encouragement i am once again riddleposting (hope u dont mind being tagged ＞︿＜)

I kinda got carried away and wrote waaaaay more than I thought i would

"Wow, your room is so... swanky." you commented upon entering his room for the first time. It was decorated in checkerboard patterns and heart motifs, which was very fitting for the dorm of Heartslabyul.

You never expected him to actually agree when you jokingly suggested a sleepover, but you're definitely not complaining.

"Thank you. It was modeled after the Queen of Hearts' castle and has mostly stayed the same throughout the dorm's history. I only made a few adjustments to have it be better suited to me." he explained. Clearly, he took good care of the place since it looked very clean and organised.

"By the way, you won't collar me if I happen to break any of your weird rules by accident, will you?" you were still somewhat worried you'd have to sleep with that uncomfy collar around your neck.

"I will excuse you from the rules, just this once. But do not call the rules 'weird', as it is quite disrespectful to do so." he crossed his arms.

Well, atleast you're glad about that.

You placed down the little bag of stuff you brought with you just for this occasion. You got so excited you ended up planning out several activities for you and Riddle to do.

But first, you have pyjamas to change into! Riddle graciously offered to let you change in his bathroom. Even in there, everything is super clean and organised, almost to a scary degree. Somehow, you get the feeling that Riddle doesn't really know how to "have fun". In a 'casually messing around with firends' kinda way.

After changing into your pyjamas, you call out to Riddle to make sure he's done changing as well. Once he confirms he has, you exit his bathroom to find Riddle in an oversized, frilly pair of white pjyamas, the kind you'd find people wearing in the medieval times. Oh. My. God.

"Pffft.... You-" you had to pause to hold back from laughing. "You look like a starving victorian child." you couldn't help but point out the silly resemblance. The pjyamas brought the whole look together.

"I haven't the slightest clue what a victorian child is, but I am certainly not starving. Why must you constantly insult me with such strange phrases?" Oh, it makes sense he wouldn't get the comparison. And even if he did, you feel like he wouldn't be very amused.

"They aren't insults. Just little comparisons." You smiled innocently at him. While they are just comparisons in a sense, they are usually meant to rile him up a little bit. You just can't help but banter with anyone and everyone sometimes.

Riddle felt a slight shiver run down his spine since you reminded him of a certain someone who likes comparing people to sea creatures at that moment. Though your lovely smile didn't resemble his creepy grin at all.

Lovely... smile? What is he even thinking about right now?

"Are you... good? You're making a weird face." your voice snapped him out of it and he assured you he was perfectly fine. No cause for concern.

"You might not be starving, but are you in the mood for a little snack?" you tried your best to sound enticing, like you're mass advertising the little surprise you brought along with you.

"The rules state that-"

"I double-checked the dorm rules, don't worry. And I also know you don't like junk food, so I made sure my snack is on the healthier side. Sorry for interrupting you, by the way." you laughed awkwardly at his offended pout. But you weren't going to lie, his angry face wasn't intimidating or scary at all (atleast not right now). It gives off more of an 'angry little kitten' vibe to you. But you already made one silly comparison tonight so you feel like Riddle might appreciate this one even less.

"Well then. I'd like to know what it is." he actually seemed pretty interested in what you came up with. You dug around your bag, pulling out a packet of chocolate-covered strawberries.

"Feast your eyes on these bad boys!" the specific choice of chocolate-covered strawberries was a calculated one on your end. You had asked Trey about Riddle's food preferences before, but it was unrelated to this sleepover. You can only thank your past self (and Trey) for arming you with the valuable knowledge that Riddle likes strawberry tarts (and consequently strawberries, you hope).

"Oh. I suppose these look quite tasty." he was actually really pleasantly surprised about your choice of snack. It's surprisingly fit to his tastes.

How thoughtful of you...

"Here, have one!" you actually made homemade chocolate just for these. Trey gave you a good baking lesson on how to do that. So of course, you want him to be the first one to try!

He hesitates for a moment. Although the food you're giving him doesn't break any of the Queen's rules, it still feels off to be eating so late at night. Scheduled meals are so ingrained into his mind that he feels the sudden urge to reject the offer and go brush his teeth immediately.

But something strange blooms in his heart when he sees the excitement in your gaze and he submits, telling himself he'll do it just this once. For you.

He grabs one of the strawberries from the packet, slowly and hesitantly raising it to his mouth as if it were forbidden to eat. It still felt forbidden, no matter how many times he told himself it was fine to let loose sometimes.

"It's... delicious." he comments upon eating the entire strawberry.

"Oh, goodie! I was worried I messed up the chocolate, somehow." his eyes went slightly wide upon hearing that you made part of them yourself. He felt his chest tighten up slighly. In a good way.

"In that case, I shall have some more. And you eat them too, since you prepared them for this occasion." the two of you sat down on the edge of his bed, placing the strawberries in between you so you could both easily reach for them while talking.

You still made sure you swallowed the food before you talked though. To avoid a scolding about proper manners from Riddle.

"So, for this sleepover I was thinking we could try summoning a demon, playing board games, doing karaoke, watching a movie, playing 'would you rather', making a pillow fort, and-"

"What was that first one?" Riddle had never experienced a sleepover before, so he had no clue what people actually did in them but he always just imagined sleepovers were purely sleeping at eachother's houses, not doing anything BUT that. He could barely keep up with all of the things you were listing off, but the first one ESPECIALLY stumped him.

"Summoning a demon? Everyone tries that in sleepovers. Usually doesn't work." you shrugged casually, reaching for another strawberry.

"How... horrific. And utterly nonsensical. What joy do you get from doing something so horrible? Especially if you know it won't work?" he seemed genuinely stumped by the concept, which made you want to laugh but you held back since you didn't want to choke on a chocolate-covered strawberry. It would certainly be a way to go.

"It's about the thrill, Riddle. What if it actually works this time? You never know...." you whisper teasingly, like a narrarator in a horror movie.

"In that case, we are absolutely not doing that." he hates to admit it, but he's actually kind of worried a silly ritual might workmand is taking precautions right now to not let it happen at all.

"Hahaha, that's fine! We can do all the other stuff, then." you decided to take mercy on him after seeing how hard he's trying not to let it show that he's scared of demon summoning games. He reminds you of your friends on your first sleepover when you tried summoning a demon. All of you were acting tough and unbothered back then, but were deathly afraid and unable to sleep after.

When you reached for another strawberry, you just happened to grab Riddle's hand instead. Seems you were both going for the same one. Actually, that one's the final one!

"Oops... you go ahead and take it. I feel like I've had enough." you smiled awkwardly at him. Gosh, is it suddenly slightly hotter in here or is it just you?

"Thank you." Riddle looked away, turning his head so you wouldn't see his reddening face as he ate the final strawberry. He's kinda mad at himself for getting so flustered over an accidental hand hold. Your hand felt so... nice to hold. It would be so nice if he could hold it more often. Gah, what on earth is he thinking?! None of this is rational...

An awkward silence fills the room.

And you get a cheeky little idea.

You picked up a pillow from his bed and threw it at the back of his head.

"Hey. What do you think you are doing-HHMMF!" you threw another pillow, this time directly at his face as he turned around to scold you.

"PILLOW FIGHT!" you yelled out excitedly, already grabbing another pillow to defend yourself with as you scurried on the other side of his bed. You giggled at the way his entire face flushed red with anger.

"That was no fair! I was not prepared at all!" you totally caught Riddle off guard, but now he was prepared to have his revenge. He never had a pillow fight before, but if little kids are capable of having one, so is he. And he is quite confident that his magical abilities will give him the upper hand against you.

"Even if you were, I'd still win! They called me the pillow fight champion back in my world!" you throw a pillow at him, which he stops with his magic.

"Oh, we'll see about that. You've had quite enough of landing hits on me, I believe." he smirked confidently at you, feeling a childlike excitement running through his veins.

Now that he thinks about it, it has been a long long time since he has felt this excited and relaxed. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to do this over and over and over again.

In moderation.

[godilovecinnamon222]

how to surv1ve thanksgiving and christmas d1nn3r with an 3d mini guide!

disclaimer:

i am by no means encouraging anyone to st4rv3 or to follow this guide, i made it hoping that it would reach the people that know they'll be struggling at holidays and that need this help. i know how scary and how hard it is to try and keep an 3d a secret, this is supposed to help the people that need to know how to avoid the judgement and the oddly terrifying questions that get thrown at them.

how to prepare:

i would say there's 2 ways to go about the day before the d1nn3r, e4ting so that you won't p4ss out infront of your entire family, or f4$ting, this is really up to you. i have a pretty good tolerance for not p4$sing out so i will probably be f4$ting but it's totally your choice!! you can also try and calculate how much your going to e4t and burn c41s according to that (i'll list basic f00ds and numbers at the bottom)

"why is there like nothing on your plate??"

first off the best way to avoid this entirely is to just make a plate, i'd rather avoid people finding out so i can keep doing what im doing

for your plate (if you make one) load it up with tonsss of vegetables or fruit but i feel like fruit is never really served tbh, and some meat bc yay protein, sometimes ill throw a roll on there to make my plate look a little better but i don't ever really eat it, my whole family thinks im a very picky e4ter and they know i dont like thanksgiving food so im typically able to get away with throwing out f00d. and family dinners are so chaotic that people don't even realize sometimes.

you can also cut your f00d up and reshape it etc (yall know this meathod 🙏) to make it look like you at3, mashed potatoes are very easy to spread around and make them look like less. here's some excuses you can use to respond to the question:

" oh i atę earlier!!" this is a classic obviously but if your with people before hand e4t a little something in front of them and really make sure they notice.

" i dont feel to good right now."

" im not super hun6ry" also a classic but in classics we trust!

"last time i atę ____ it made feel really sick"

" oh i'm allergic to ____" allergies are a solid excuse but i wouldn't use it unless you actually have them

" gotta save room for dessert!!" don't worry i'll also be explaining how you can get through that to

dessert:

i feel like this is almost more stressful than the main meal, honestly me and my favorite cousin walk like crazy when ever we're together so sometimes i get lucky and miss dessert and than it sits out but there's no one really makeing me ęat it, for our family dessert is mostly optional and my mom knows i don't like e4tin6 a ton of junk so she won't suspect anything but if your family's forcefull here's a few things you can do:

-go for something that you know is lower in c41s or a safe f00d for you

-have very tiny servings

- bake something yourself so you know exactly what your getting

-talk about how full you are while your eating dinner so people think less at dessert

" i might have something in a little bit!!" try to avoid saying things about f00d, like im still full from dinner or im letting my f00d settle, because than you won't have to deal with "but you barely 4tę anything!!"

know what your 3ating:

all of these are measured by the s3rving siz3 (also going to be listed) they may also vary depending on brands, ingredients, toppings, blah blah blah you guys probably know that. this is basically just a rough estimate

cranberry suace: 86 c41s, one slice (about 8 slices per can take that as you will)

- mashed potatoes: 214 c41s (1 cup)

- sweet potato casserole: 235 c41s (1 cup)

- green bean casserole: 200-230 c41s ( a little under 1 cup)

- green beans: 31 c41s (1 cup)

- broccoli: 31 c41s (1 cup)

- asparagus: 32 c41s (10 spears)

- mac and cheese: 310 c41s(1 cup)

- turkey: 240 c41s (1 cup)

- gravy: 36 c41s (3 tbs)

- stuffing: 300-400 c41s (1 cup)

- rolls: 80-150 c41s (one roll)

- pumpkin pie: 300-450 c41s (one slice)

- apple pie: 300-450 c41s (one slice)

- pecan pie 400-500 c41s (one slice)

these f00ds are mostly for thanksgiving because the whole holiday is centered around f00d and i actually despise that, let me know if i missed anything you want me to add to the list or if any of these are incorrect!!

with all of that said, if you enjoy thanksgiving or anything to do with f00d in general, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that!!! no matter where you stand your 3d is still valid. so if you choose to try and make the best of the holidays to whatever extent that may be go right ahead and don't let anyone else stop you, make your self a plate of your your favorite things and go back for dessert twice if that's what you choose, one day won't ruin every step of progress you made, as long as you don't loose yourself entirely you will be ok!!

no matter who you are or how your struggling, your 3d is valid, good luck, be safe, and happy holidays!!!

[indelen]

This is me finally reaching the end of The Screaming Staircase in the great Lockwood and Co reread organized by @blue-boxes-magic-and-tea, I usually make a general summary of several chapters and then post bits and pieces that jumped out at me, but honestly, I don't have much to say here except that with some hindsight I'm amazed how much seeds of the further plots are laid down here in very subtle ways. Sometimes just a line or two.

Part V: Chapters 25-26

Again that seed of doubt, possibly spurred on my poor Annie Ward and her controlling relationship. This is the first of many times Lucy will be frustrated at Lockwood hiding things, doing things behind her back and in secret. From the beginning Lucy and Lockwood’s main conflict, which comes to a head in the 3rd book, is inevitable. Holly was just the final straw, the last symptom of a prolonged illness. If she didn’t come along some other argument would have boiled over to the same end.

See kids, this is why you don’t help work for cops.

The fascinating thing about Kipps is that he is, at the start of the book, in the highest possible position and has the best possible future of any kid who enters the agency system.

On paper.

On paper he survived being an agent, was recognized for his Talent and promoted, he was deemed valuable enough to be retained at Fittes as a supervisor after his Talent faded and his team is productive enough to be contracted out to DEPRAC. If it’s all written as a CV it looks quite impressive. But in reality all it really means is that Kipps has two sets of people treating him like garbage and barking orders at him. He answers to two sets of higher ups who could not care less if he and anyone in his charge lives or dies. And this is all dressed up as quite the honor, so Kipps doesn't really realize just how powerless, overworked and run into the ground he is.

Not yet.

Babies! Absolute children.

I get why they were aged up for the show but it was a bit jarring to see Cameron Chapman grab a beer from the fridge because in the book these are very clearly kids for whom the height of hedonism is binging on junk food Kevin McCallister style.

George is genuinely amazing because when did he manage to squirrel these away and how? But also, what I think is fascinating is that George asks Lucy’s opinion on something quite sincerely here, as one would a colleague. And Lucy … gives him a correct answer, she recognizes the sign! Because here’s the thing, Lucy was deprived of an education sure, but she’s not dumb. And as we later learn she’s quite artistic, she likes to draw. And if you’ve ever flipped through even one art book you would know how a Greek lyre looks like, even if you don’t know its exact name and meaning. And that is precisely the type of knowledge that Lockwood and Geroge would not have.

“Some flowers bloom

Where the green grass grows

Our praise is not for them

But the ones who bloom in the bitter snow

We raise our cups to them

We raise our cups and drink them up”

Gods give me strength, I will get to the symbolism of Stroud picking specifically the mythological Orpheus for this plotline of the book and how it relates to Lockwood … eventually.

I think from the start Lockwood kinda hopes that Lucy can talk to Type 3s. This matches with his attitude at the interview. I think he’s both terrified of Lucy’s ability to communicate and be so close emotionally and physically with ghosts (because of his own past) and sort of completely taken in and fascinated by it. It’s both similar and completely alien to what he can do. It would explain why he is always a bit aloof with her but always 100% has faith in her talents and is always by her side. It also explains why he doesn't process his feelings about her until much, much later.

Now girl, that’s not the way to talk about your future boyfriend.

Yes it was disappointing to see Skull on screen without his sass and much more of a spook jar but at the same time i can’t imagine how to thread this sort of needle in a live action adaptation. At the very least the more expressive, book loyal Skull would have cost a fortune to render with CGI. But I do miss him. Little gremlin shit disturber (affectionate).

I love this ending because it shows Lockwood and George, at last, as kids. Just two 14 year old boys laughing at the height of 14 year old boy humor - a rude story about nudity (I'm assuming the cut-happy US editor left the words as is and this is the UK “pants” which is actually “underpants” but please correct me someone with unexpurgated version if that is not the case).

Death in Life and Life in Death.

And Lucy chooses to go to them rather than stay with Skull. From cold into warmth, from darkness into light, from amongst death towards the living. The end of the series is already given to us, if we squint.

Final Lockwood smile count: 12!

Will Lucy beat her own record in The Whispering Skull? Stay tuned to find out!

[ohraicodoll]

ahhh your headcannons are so amazing would you be down to do more? maybe one focusing on red and joels relationship developing in jackson?

also did you ever explain why joel and ellie call her red. or did i just miss it?

Joel wasn't paying attention when Ellie named her those first few days. He was too busy trying to ignore her completely and then was too stubborn to ask. (You may get the reason why in the next story I post).

Here's some more headcanons:

They both don't know how to navigate life in Jackson. Which means they default to continuing what they were doing before and not talk about it

That first night in the house, after bringing Ellie home and that conversation on the hilltop, everything felt stiff. The teenager was still quiet while Joel did his best to get her to open up. She took up residence in the room she stayed in last time while Joel took the other. Red didn't know where she was suppose to go and decided to just take the first floor bedroom

Skin clean from showering, food in her belly, the room felt cold and alone no matter how much she arranged it to make herself feel comfortable.

She woke to the sound of her door opening and then a curse as whoever it was stepped on the random junk she had put in front of it as a makeshift alarm. Joel glared at her, huffed, then told her to get her ass upstairs. So she did, both of them knocking out quickly next to each other.

Ellie eased up a bit more after time, which meant they both breathed a little easier.

It was a few days after settling in that Joel slid the hand on her stomach to under her shirt as they lay in bed. It was like lighting a bonfire. For the first time since they started whatever relationship they were in, he saw her completely naked and mapped out every scar, freckle, and mark on her body. They didn't sleep at all that night.

Both of them are not good at relationships.

Joel hadn't been in a real one since Sarah's mom and as important as Tess was and as long as they were together, he'd put up a wall emotionally between them. Could never give her what she wanted.

Red hadn't been with anyone really since Harry years before in the early days of the outbreak. He was her high school sweetheart and the only man she had been with for years into her 20's until she shot his face off years later.

They don't confront what they are.

But Joel doesn't like the eyes of the men on her or the way he overhears some wondering if she was wild in the sheets too. Talking about taming her. He almost breaks one of their jaws. Tommy has to come up with an excuse for him.

Red finds that settlement life has brought something up she hadn't had to deal with in a long time. Insecurity. She's not young anymore and her appearance wasn't a necessity when you're surviving. Is aware of the differences between her and the other women. Add in her protectiveness of her people and it made her hyper aware how the women in town looked at Joel.

No one considered her more than his partner in a non-romantic sense. The person Joel was taking care of. It rankled her but she couldn't argue against it, couldn't exactly claim him in front of them all. Because she didn't know if he was hers.

Joel however, didn't think it needed explaining that she was his. His what exactly, he wasn't sure. But somehow it all had morphed beyond needs and sex and survival. Girlfriend and partner seemed contrived in comparison. Red was just...his.

Her abrasiveness made the gentle moments all the better. He liked seeing her relaxed and laid out in the sun, body loose. Loved the way her eyes became bright with life anytime music was brought up. The gentle smile and soothing hands when he would wake up from a nightmare, urging him to breathe.

The first time she smiled and laughed at him, not Ellie, he was stunned and may have blushed. She looked like a completely different person and if he could drink the sound of her laughter and joy, he'd be drunk on it every day.

There were some mornings when she slept in later than him and he took the time to count the small stars tattooed on her collarbone and watching her breathe.

It takes months before she shares the cassette tape in her bag. She hands it over to him like she's handing over her first born child. And then she leaves, saying they can give it back when they're finished. He borrows a cassette radio and him and Ellie listen to the mixtape her sister made for her.

When they hear her sing on that tape, the last song on the tape her sister had secretly recorded one band practice, Joel had to clench his teeth and close his eyes at the sudden feeling of wanting to sob for some reason. Because the young girl's voice was full of sunshine and laughter and god, she had been so good and then the apocalypse robbed her of all of that. He can hear hints of his Red in that tape and it feels like they're mourning a loved one. Ellie discreetly wiped away tears.

Tommy sometimes asks what her real name is. Joel didn't know it and told him so and his brother seemed baffled at the notion that he didn't even know the name of the woman he was with. But she did have a name and it was Red or Starshine or Darling.

They don't know her birthday until one day he finds her in the small wildflower covered hill outside the harvest field. There are no cakes, no parties, nothing but her and the flowers and the whispered confession that her family never celebrated birthdays, but her sister would come into her room every morning and surprise her with something if only to celebrate in some way. He sat behind her, legs on either side, and held her before confessing that his birthday was Outbreak day and the day Sarah died.

Ellie's birthday is the only one they plan on celebrating.

She traced her name into his palm one day, but he never speaks it out loud.

When they argue, Ellie knows to take cover in her room. Joel can get loud, uses his height and stature to get his way, but she's used to being smaller. Knows how to stab with words and snap her teeth and not back down. They're both so stubborn and rarely does either of them win.

The makeup sex usually lasts all night

When Maria gives birth, Joel finds the pain of seeing another baby isn't as bad as he thought. That natural part of him kicks back in when he holds the baby boy, smiling softly at the newest member of the Miller family.

Red stays in the doorway, watching them all. She looked a second away from bolting. She doesn't hold the baby.

Sometimes wild animals kill their young. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes accidentally. She's not taking any risks.

He comes home a few times and finds her on the couch, one of the older kennel dogs curled into her on the couch and her arm around it. He's old and has been taken off duty which meant the patrols don't care about him. The cold has been hard on the old dog.

She stays in the kennels for almost a whole week when the dog dies from old age, tucked away with the other pups, and he has to carry her back home.

There are moments of seeing the girl she used to be. When they get drunk in the house, Ellie staying over with Tommy to help them with the baby, he manages to make her laugh and even persuades her to dance with him. She has a hard time being gentle but she becomes liquid in his hands, bashful and pink cheeked and a grin so bright it could rival the stars.

She is two different people but he finds he loves both. The girl before whose name was written into his skin late at night and the woman after with sharp teeth and narrowed eyes who Ellie had named in the forest.

[eldritchsurveys]

1180.

1. Do you enjoy rhododendrons? >> Sure, they're very pretty.

2. Have you ever met someone who supports Nazism? >> On the internet, yeah. Fortunately not in meatspace where they can actually do something to me. 3. If you’ve ever been to another country, what was the best thing you did there? .

4. Which is your favorite print: Plaid, animal, stripes, spots, other? >> Plaid is the one I dislike the least...

5. Have you ever owned a cell phone for over a year? If so, was it still working well? >> There is no way I would voluntarily get a new phone after less than a year. That is horrifying to me.

6. What’s the worst sickness you’ve ever had? >> Food poisoning. Also, the sickness that comes with bad menstrual cramps.

7. What do you enjoy more: Fairs or circuses? .

8. Is your favorite animal something you can have as a pet? . 9. Are you good at gardening? >> I am not because I don't practice it.

10. What was the last classic novel you read? Did you enjoy it? >> Hmm... I have no idea. 11. Do you think you would actually read any of the epic poems, such as Beowulf or The Iliad? >> Probably not. 12. Are you the type of person who feels guilty after eating junk food? >> I don’t feel guilty after eating anything. God, what a concept. :/

13. Tell me about a time when you felt like you had no real friends: >> I always feel like that. It might be a side effect of having no fulfilling friendships (aside from Sparrow, I suppose, but the "fulfilling" part is, uh, variable).

14. Have you ever felt betrayed by someone? If so, what did they do to make you feel that way? >> Possibly. I never use this term so I don't have an associated memory handy.

15. Which is better: Xbox 360 or PS3? Or are you someone who doesn’t care? >> I don’t have an opinion.

16. Have you gotten registered to vote yet? >> I am registered.

17. What do you like best about your favorite actor? How about favorite actress? >> Usually what makes an actor a favourite for me is that they do something to me, viscerally. It's something like attraction, I suppose. Certainly as hard to explain.

18. Tell me how you’re feeling in another language: .

19. Would you rather drink water all day or Coca Cola all day? >> Water. I rarely drink Coke in the first place.

20. Name three movies which have a soundtrack you really love: >> Requiem for a Dream, Speak No Evil (2022), Sunshine.

21. Do you think Gatorade tastes refreshing or just gross? >> I don't know, I haven't had Gatorade in years.

22. What’s the scariest video game you’ve ever played? .

23. Do either of your parents get angry over small things? . 24. What is the most dramatic TV show that you watch? >> I don't really know how to measure this. I mean, Riverdale is basically a soap opera, so I guess that? 25. Do you still watch VHS tapes? >> I have not watched those since the early aughts. 26. Have you ever visited one of the states that doesn’t have sales tax? Was it a nice change? >> I have not.

27. Have you ever had Dutch Brothers’ coffee? >> I have not.

28. What are your grandparents like? Are they nice or mean? . 29. Do you own any pet fish? What kind of fish are they? .

30. Do you have a turntable and vinyls that you regularly play? >> I do have these things but I don't regularly use them. It's just so much more of a hassle to do so than it is to just play Spotify. Also, I don't think my record player has Bluetooth capability and I usually listen to music through wireless headphones.

31. What is the most irritating thing that a boyfriend or girlfriend has ever done to you? >> I am so easily irritated by people that this is impossible to determine, lol.

32. Have you ever thrown up from being so nervous? What was happening that made you so nervous? >> I have not.

33. Would you rather be uncomfortable but fashionable or comfortable but unfashionable? >> I will always choose to be comfortable, but I don't think that excludes me from being fashionable. It just requires some cleverness.

34. When was the last time you took your pet to the vet? What was wrong with it? . 35. Have you ever known someone who was in an abusive relationship? >> Well, yeah. Unfortunately, that is extremely common.

36. If you smoke/drink/do drugs, do you feel insulted when someone tells you that it’s bad for you? >> If someone tried to tell me that, I would be extremely irritated at best. I am quite capable of evaluating personal risk and making informed decisions, thank you.

37. Do you like skiing or snowboarding? >> I have never done this. 38. Do you find government buildings dreary and uncomfortable? >> Sometimes, but mostly I don't think about them at all.

39. Name the last horror story you read. If you can’t remember any, name the last horror movie you saw. >> A Short Stay in Hell by Steven Peck. It's a novella about a Tower of Babel situation, pretty neat.

40. What happened the last time you were embarrassed? .

[babeczka415]

Eternal Love

Chapter 2

It's been a week since that morning I came home. It's been seven days and who knows how many hours since he left me. My heart aches in ways I can't even describe. Jessy has stopped by making sure I eat and cleaning up. She finally got me to talk the other night and we drowned ourselves in wine and ice cream while watching horror movies. I haven't told Dan yet and I know that conversation was coming tonight as it was the night he and Jessy always came around to have fun.

I manage to get out of bed and move to the couch with my laptop. I have never been more grateful for this job than I am now. It allows me to work from home and as long as I tell my boss in advance no video chats. I just told him I was sick but still able to work. Eventually I know that isn't going to work but it's been a blessing this week.

I keep checking my phone all day hoping for something from him. Something to explain but still nothing. Instead I have a text from Lilly, I curse her under my breath. She only wants to talk to see how he is.

Lilly: MC, everything okay? We haven't heard from him or you.

MC: No everything isn't okay and please stop talking to me only to find out how he is. He left me a week ago and told me to move on.

MC: I'm gonna say you and Hannah should do the same thing and just forget him!

I sign off just as fast as I send that message and I'm glad it's the end of the day. I head into the kitchen and grab the Jack Daniels and take a drink from the bottle. It burns going down but at least it's a feeling. I hear the door unlock as Jessy has a key. 

"I don't know why you didn't knock like we always do" Dan states.

I sigh, I hope she doesn't tell him why. I turn around with the bottle still in my hand and I see them in the doorway.

"Hey don't start the fun without me" Dan laughs.

I smile the best I can and he instantly knows something is wrong.

"Still nothing?" My red haired best friend asks and I shake my head while taking another drink.

"What is going on?" Asks Dan.

"Jake is gone," I say, looking away from him. He wraps his arms around me. He's finally started walking again after the accident and I just cry into his chest.

"We will make you forget all about him," Dan says, lifting my head up. I lean against him not being able to say anything. 

I was expecting an 'I told you he was bad news' or something along those lines from Dan but he instantly goes into best friend mode.

Jessy grabs out all the junk food she has brought over and we make a table top on the bar between that and different alcohol. These two know exactly what I need after having my heartbroken by the man I thought was my forever. 

We pile on the couch and throw in movies after movies. I remember taking a silly picture of us but I don't do anything with it.

Jakes POV:

It's been seven days and 16 hours since I left her. I never wanted to fall in love but she did it. She made me fall in love with her. 

Tonight I'm in an abandoned warehouse tracking my pursuers. Sleep has not been my friend in a while and this last week has been worse. Everytime I close my eyes I see her smile, her sleeping. I feel her curled up against me afraid to lose me.

You see when I told her my location I knew what was going to happen. I knew she wouldn't let go of me but I needed to see her and feel her touch and kisses one more time before I broke her heart. Those hazel eyes as she spun around were full of love and feeling safe.

I knew I could never be HER safe haven. I also know she would give up everything for me if I so much as hinted at it.

I couldn't bring her into this world, more than I already had. She needed to live her life normally, before she got dragged into finding Hannah and falling in love with me. She needs a normal future, one not on the constant run. I have no idea when I can give her that and I knew it from the start. 

You see she's the good girl, the girl every guy wants. I'm troubled, she knew that but still fell. It's the typical good girl who falls in love with the bad boy. What the normal story doesn't tell is how the bad boy fell in love with her, but just wanted to keep her safe.

I hear my phone go off and I look and it's Lilly. I hadn't reached out and I wasn't planning on going until I knew I was safe. I sigh as I open the location on MC. I have to make sure they aren't tracking her. She's at home like she has been since she entered back in. I could pull up her webcam but it would just break my heart. I do follow her social media but lately she hasn't been posting but I keep a watch.

I see a photo pop up, which is odd at the time. It's a photo of her, Jessica, and Daniel curled up on the couch with drinks. I read the caption and my heart breaks.

When your world is falling apart, you can't ask for more than best friends, Jack Daniels, and lots of junk food.

The photo looks odd then I realize it's taken at night and it's now the next morning… eight days since I saw her smile at me, even in her sleep.

I set Nymos up and lean back on the couch trying to catch some sleep hoping she doesn't haunt my dreams.

[fangirlmary]

"Save and Make Up"

Summary: Ashley is attacked at a gas station; fortunately, the Undertaker intervenes. Seventh installment of Two Brothers, One Friend, Many Stories series. Kayfabe details used only.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the pro wrestling gimmicks/characters used here. I only own my original characters.

After she had gotten home, Ashley had gone into her house after parking her car in the garage and making sure it was closed. She took her purse and backpack into the house through the door that lead to the laundry room and then took her shoes off. She locked the door, took her dirty clothes out of the backpack, and then took said backpack and purse upstairs. She changed into a red t-shirt, white socks, and light blue shorts and then took the business casual clothing she had worn earlier downstairs. After starting a load of laundry, the single mom went into the living room to call her parents and children. She dialed the number correctly and waited for only a few moments for her father to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" Thomas said from the other end of the line.

"Hello, Dad. I made it home safely. The interview went well. The only thing is I think that Mark might not want to talk to me for a while." Ashley admitted. "No, he did not physically harm me before you ask." She proceeded to explain what had happened several hours earlier and how the Undertaker had not taken it well when she had explained that her family had been told that Kane was missing and presumed dead rather than being actually dead, which was what her best friend had been told.

"Well, I would like to think that he was being truthful about being angrier with whoever made sure we got different information than he did than he was with you." Thomas assured his daughter. "You know how he is more honest than one might expect."

"I hope you're right. I want to talk to Mom too." Ashley decided to take it with a grain of salt for now.

After Ashley had talked to Caroline for a few minutes, she talked to Meredith, then Colin, and finally Lucas. She was happy to hear that her children and her parents were planning on visiting Coney Island the next day and would send her a souvenir in the mail. It lifted her mood a little bit though she soon had to hang up the phone.

Ashley made herself a PB&J sandwich for supper and had a few orange slices and a glass of water with it. She wound up having chocolate ice cream for dessert and washed the dishes before getting ready for bed. She was soon fast asleep in her room with the door closed and the light turned off, not knowing what would happen next.

On Monday night, June 3rd, 1997, Ashley had watched Raw as usual although she wasn't paying much attention to it. She was still finding it hard to forgive herself and she would still feel that way the next day, June 4th. Fortunately, she was able to focus at work and perform her main task of baking the cookies and keeping the bakery's display cases filled. After work, she had gone home, found the check that had been sent to her for having been interviewed in the mail, then went to the bank to deposit it before said bank closed. She then returned home, changed into normal clothes consisting of pink shorts, a periwinkle t-shirt, white socks, and her regular sneakers before walking down to a gas station at the end of the street she lived on to buy some snacks, some change and her keys in her right front pocket. She had already gotten healthy foods at the grocery store on Sunday but had forgotten to get sweet or salty junk foods. She would not have a chance to go inside the convenience store though. Not yet, anyway.

It started when a duo of white men who seemed to be inebriated came over and cat called her and then tried to drag her away. Ashley fought back, punching one man in the nose and making it bleed. Then she bit the other man.

Both men cursed angrily. Then they heard someone say something that they did not expect to hear, causing the second man to let go of Ashley as he and his companion wet themselves.

"You made a huge mistake picking on my friend." The Undertaker had appeared right behind the two attackers before saying this.

Both men scurried away like rodents although they were stumbling. Still, at least they had enough sense to retreat even in their drunken state. No one would believe them if they told anyone that the Undertaker had appeared to frighten them away.

Ashley was still in shock as she stared at her childhood friend. She didn't know what to do or say.

"What were you doing here, old friend?" The Deadman asked. While he wasn't showing it on his face, his worried sounding tone of voice made it obvious how concerned he was.

"Trying to get some chips and a slushy." Ashley finally answered. "Maybe some chocolate too since I'm going to need it later this week. Thanks for interfering." She went into the store, trying not to show how shaken she was.

The Undertaker followed behind her, watching everything around his friend like a hawk as she found a big bag of potato chips and a bag of Hershey Kisses.

"Did you need anything?" Ashley finally asked. "Any items from here, that is." She went over to the slushy machine and filled a small cup with a lemon flavored slushy after putting a dome lid on it and setting her other two items aside for a moment. Then she put a red straw in the drink and picked it and the other items up.

"No. I did want to tell you something after we are somewhere private." He said as they headed to the counter.

The cashier, a white man with red hair and green eyes who was in his twenties, seemed as though he was trying not to get over excited about seeing a WWF wrestler in person. He managed to contain that excitement though as Ashley put her items on the counter. "Will that be all for you?"

"Yes." Ashley answered.

Once the total was given, the Undertaker handed over the correct amount of change before Ashley could pull out her own money. He also gave the cashier a piece of paper with an autograph signature on it.

"Thank you! You both have a good night." The cashier said happily.

"You too." Ashley replied as she headed out, her two food items in one clear plastic bag in one hand and her lemon slushy in the other.

The Undertaker was not far behind his friend and as they walked, he said "If you really think that you owe me for not telling me that you weren't told the same thing about my brother's fate sooner, I think it would be best if you came to a pay per view event and bring your children with you."

"Do I get to pick the event though?" Ashley asked.

"Yes." Her childhood friend answered.

They had now arrived at Ashley's home and she unlocked the front door. "I'll let you know once I've picked one. Does Paul Bearer know you're here?"

"He is not aware of that as far as I know." The Deadman answered as he followed her inside and they took their shoes off before going to sit in the living room on the sofa. "Speaking of him, I wanted to tell you that he is only going to let me talk to you on the phone once a week on Saturdays from now on. I do have a cell phone now though."

"I'm not surprised, but that's better than not getting to talk to each other at all." Ashley set her food items down in the kitchen, put her change and keys back in her purse (which was in her bedroom), and went to sit next to the Undertaker, putting her slushy on the coffee table in front of her. "Aren't cell phones expensive?"

"It's worth the expense if it means you can call me back if I wind up having to leave a message on your answering machine." He pointed out, looking at her as if she had said that the grass was blue or some other crazy statement.

"I can not argue with that." Ashley conceded. "I can't afford a cell phone or a computer; maybe someday I can buy one or both of those things, but not this year." She sighed sadly. "Trust me, I would go into the professional wrestling business if I didn't have to worry about my kids and wasn't happy with my current job."

"I think you shouldn't; you are fortunate to have a family in general." The Deadman reminded her.

"I know." Ashley put her arm around her childhood friend. "Do you remember when we were much younger and going to a pro wrestling show with Kane and my dad? I recall saying that if we all became part of that industry when we grew up, I would want to manage you and/or your brother if I wasn't allowed to wrestle. Maybe it's just as well that dream only remained a childhood fantasy."

"I do remember that time very well." The Undertaker replied, sounding wistful. One day, he and his friend could hopefully find out Kane's real fate and move on, unaware of what it actually would be.

"Thanks again for helping me out. I just got to add your cell phone number to my address book." Ashley got her address book out of a drawer in the kitchen and came back. She wrote it down with a pen as her friend recited the number after he stood up from the sofa. Then she put the address book and pen back in the drawer and gave her friend a hug. "I'll talk to you on Saturday, Mark. Please stay safe."

"Same to you, Ashley. Don't worry about me too much. Farewell." He replied. Any lights that were on in the house went off briefly as the Phenom vanished. When they came back on, Ashley was left standing alone.

"Well, guess I better finish my drink before it melts." Ashley took her slushy into the dining room to finish drinking it before she made supper. After she was done eating and had washed the dishes, she found a note left on the coffee table.

The note said: "Perfection is impossible, so don't beat yourself up over mistakes you have made. To take responsibility for one's actions is a good trait for anyone to have. You will always be my best friend no matter what happens next. Also, I'm sending you something next week; I hope you like it. Talk to you soon-Mark C. P.S., you've already been forgiven."

"I hope whatever you send me is something great." Ashley said to herself before she started getting ready for bed, unaware of what the future held.

[ablizmal]

oh… my god? i did NOT know about the movie!watari’s diary entries. the way it was written hurts my heart.

“the expanded universe is keen on portraying Watari as […] an instigator of change, for the betterment of humanity.”

i still can NOT like this interpretation/concept. in fact, it terrifies me more than makes me view watari in a good light??

putting the weight of the world on these children’s shoulders, always (silently) saying “you can stop injustice in the world. you can punish the guilty and the damned”? that’s too much pressure to put on an adult, much less these children.

no child’s life and mental health is worth it for “the betterment of humanity.”

but then again, maybe watari has this realization himself with the following lines… 🤔

“L. Don't you ever place your emotions prior to your goals?”

“L. I never meant for things to end this way. Your talent has surpassed mine, and now you are consuming yourself.”

also it seems odd to me that watari, this man who is clearly intelligent and has studied countless subjects (just given from the fact that he’s an inventor with several patents around the world), did not think to research about child rearing. 🤨 like,,, he knows all about how to put together machines or something, proving he can learn intricate subjects and topics, but when placed in this parental figure to these orphans, DIDN’T think “i should research about this since i care about these kids :)”??? it’s odd!

but maybe the reason why he didn’t read any current material about child rearing is simply because he’s old, and assumes that the way he was raised was right (cause he turned out okay), so there’s no need to research upon it? 🤔🤔🤔 (i am trying my best to see it from all angles.)

and maybe him being old (and therefore being less informed about mental health) also explains why he didn’t anticipate L killing himself in the name of justice. it’s such an illogical move for any human to do, to kill themself, that it genuinely didn’t cross watari’s mind as a real possibility :o

BUT. i 100% agree and believe your sentiment of “watari enabled L.” like no decent parent would ever let their kid not eat nor eat unhealthily, regardless of the how’s and why’s.

(personal information ahead) i was neglected as a child, mainly through lack of attention from my parents, was emotionally neglected by them, and generally was just ignored. apart of this was my parents getting fed up with me not wanting to eat vegetables as a kid. this… is a normal developmental phase for a kid to go through, to be adversed to eating vegetables. but instead of my parents trying out different recipes that included vegetables, they gave up and let me eat junk food only.

so i have the right to say the following, as someone who (much like L) was allowed to eat only unhealthy foods growing up:

it was not okay. even if their intentions was to have me eat anything at all, it was NOT okay for them to not adjust and to not attempt to find ways for me to eat healthy. this shows a clear lack of caring for my health and my future.

they enabled me to eat unhealthy foods.

that was the end result, and that is not okay for a parent to do.

i eat healthier now of course, but just… god. having good intentions behind your actions towards your child is reasonable to a point, and i feel like what watari did was way past that point of being moral.

which is what leads me to the conclusion that watari didn’t have L’s interests and future in mind, and leads me to the conclusion that he didn’t care about him.

yes, he held a basic level of care for him to not want him to die or be sick in any way, but that’s the bare minimum of caring for other human beings.

let’s revisit the next sentence again…

“L. I never meant for things to end this way. Your talent has surpassed mine, and now you are consuming yourself.”

another possible (keyword “possible”) meaning of this sentence is that while L’s talent (wanting to enforce justice in the world) has surpassed watari’s to the point that L will kill himself for it (“now you are consuming yourself”), watari is saddened by this mainly because he sees L as another part of his cause. his cause to aid humanity.

so while his care for L does cover him being saddened by the idea of him dying… he may not care about L as a human, with a future, who has the rights to goals and dreams like everyone else. if this were true, it’d be upsetting to say the least, as despite watari seeing himself as “caring for the betterment of humanity,” he’s somehow completely overlooking how L should have had the chance to engage in humanity/healthy human experiences (going on vacations, having a friend group or a friend at all, engaging with their local community, having hobbies, etc).

which leads me to bring up how light yagami holds a similar view of himself and his use of the death note. light knows that yes, murder is wrong. but he excuses his murder spree with the death note as “delivering justice.” so, in a sense, he’s doing it “for the betterment of humanity.” 👀

but as near says at the end of the series, if light is going by official forces of justice (laws, the laws on murder), then he still killed people. which, from the perspective of the police, is a crime, and he should be imprisoned for said crimes against humanity. (“you’re nothing more than a crazy serial killer.”)

to summarize, light used the death note “for the betterment of humanity” while not actually caring for the people he killed himself (ex. he never thought of how naomi misora’s family would be distraught by her death).

similarly, watari enabled L to work under the unhealthy conditions he did “for the betterment of humanity,” while not caring for L’s mental health and overall fulfillment in life.

both light yagami and watari did things for “the betterment of humanity,” but that does not mean they actually had humanity** for others, and their good intentions does NOT outweigh the effects of their actions.

**humanity as in caring for another’s physical health, mental health, and fulfillment in life.

i feel like you add a lot of “but watari intended for this as a good thing!!!” after admitting his faults as a way to justify his actions. correct me if i’m wrong, because i don’t intend to be biased here.

in fact, i will admit that i was personally biased with the reblog and tagging lunalit-river. i apologize for that. at the time i thought i had all the information on hand about watari, but i clearly didn’t (with his diary entries from the movie), so that was my own fault.

but going forward, i’m trying to see things as unbiasedly as i can on this post, because i genuinely wanna discuss watari as a character instead of push an agenda. this is a discussion post now XD

(i’m just gonna post this on its own so i can just link to this in posts instead of pulling it up every single time (I||; - . -))

[fridatheflower]

What I think dating eddie munson would be like (actually accurate)

female version! let me know if u want a male version!

Hope you enjoy this btw!

my eddie playlist!

he would definitely call you like "idiot" or "stupid" in a good way when you are dating. he wouldn't call you "sweetheart" because he doesn't seem the type to do that and it's probably only reserved for his guitar.

But would call you "love", "darling", or " honey" because he would try his best to put on a british accent to say it just to make you laugh at his horrible accent.

he would 100 % brag about you during hellfire telling Mike and Dustin that you are so much better then their girlfriends.

If you don't like smoking or doing drugs he would 100% he would get at least 10 feet away from you, because he knows you hate it when he does any of that kid of stuff.

If you do like smoking or doing drugs he would definitely do it with you.

when planning dates, he would definitely say if you want to go to a metal concert with him and after that go to a horror movie showing and going to get junk food.

If you you're in hellfire and enter the room he would say "how's my idiot lover" then kiss you in front of the club. (he knows youre smarter than him tho)

The only reason he calls you idiot is because he loves teasing you and also because you both suck at math.

You would call him sweet pet names but he would laugh when you would call him like that then you would be saying sorry and he'd be teasing you saying "it's okay sweetheart" then you blushing and him laughing again so from then on you would call him "my idiot" or anything like that.

You would say something dumb and he would be like "that's why you're such an idiot" you would act offended and he would see you and quickly say "did I hurt your feelings... oh my god I'm sorry love I fucking love you so much I would never mean it" and you would laugh at him and he would be staring at you dumbfounded and you would say "I know Eddie I know. I love you too"

if you are ever mad at him it's because he said something sarcastic but it didn't sound like it or he said something "bad" about you. (bad meaning he was trying to defend you but he said " she is oblivious at times... "

He would bring you flowers and mixtapes of his and your favorite songs and explains the context to apologize and you immediately forgive him.

Would he get comfy with you quickly? Answer: for him I feel like he would warm up to you in like 1 month of dating he wants to get to know you so much so he knows what makes you comfy so he can be the best boyfriend ever.

NSFW warning!

Would he be like in the mood around you? Answer: At times yes. He would ask you "um (y/n) I kinda want to you know." You immediately see his face when he gets in the mood and if you are in the mood you would say "are you sure eddie?" Just for consent. And if you aren't in the mood you say "I'm sorry Eddie I don't feel like it at the moment" and he would reply saying "you don't have to be sorry love. It's your decision too."

Would he be rough? Answer: if you ask him too be rough definitely yes.

Any kinks you enjoy doing with him but you didn't think you would like? Answer: a lot of them.

Anyway that's all I can think of currently :)

[becca-e-barnes]

Omg becs! We need something about son's best friend Bucky because i can't even begin to explain how much it turns me on to think about geting him hard under the table while having dinner all together (and by that I mean my husband, my son and Bucky) and then offering to give gim a lift and driving him home and fucking in the car i just need it

Okay, the THOTS I have about this, I fucking love it 🥵 Like maybe your son tells you his college roommate has really far to travel to go home on weekends so maybe he spends the weekends alone, living off frozen pizzas and instant noodles (and I imagine he looks like precious lil TJ ����)

So instead, your husband offers to invite him over for Sunday dinner. It's not a bother, you always make way too much food anyway and it saves this nice boy from having to eat anymore junk. He'd at least get a good, home cooked dinner and something sweet afterwards and it makes you feel a little better knowing he has some company too.

But the first time the poor boy sees you he's clearly smitten, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. He hadn't been warned that you're nothing short of a milf, wearing a cute little apron and God, he wishes that's all you were wearing. And as much as this boy has fallen for you, he's fallen for your cooking just as hard. He thinks he's died and gone to Heaven when you lean over, offering him a second serving of potatoes because you noticed how quickly he ate what you put on his plate. He doesn't want to think about it but his dick is stirring pleasantly in his trousers, feeling you brush against him, the smell of your perfume overwhelming him in the best kind of way, never mind the sight of your cleavage as you lean over him.

It's not long before Bucky finds himself living for a Sunday. He feels so welcome in your home and he always leaves with cheeks that hurt from smiling, a fully belly and a half hard cock.

Over the weeks, he begins to pick up on the little things, like how you and your husband hardly break breath to each other, how you're left with the dishes every week and how your husband and son often don't even stick around long enough for dessert. Bucky pretends not to notice the heartbreaking look on your face as week after week your husband leaves you feeling unappreciated.

So Bucky does his best to make up for it, complimenting you every single chance he gets. "God, it smells so good in here." he groans one particular Sunday, making his way through the door and straight to the kitchen to greet you as he enters the house, leaving your son to sit in the living room with his father.

"Making your favourite today, Buck. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, peas, carrots and gravy." You smile, knowing already that his response is going to make you feel more appreciated than your husband has all week.

"God, I love you, you know that? I keep telling Ollie's friends that you're my dream wife. Tell them all that someday I'm gonna find myself a woman like you. Gonna give her a couple of cute little babies and make sure she's the happiest damn woman on earth." Your stomach tightens at his words because you wish you were about 20 years younger. You'd give him that life in a heartbeat.

"She'll be a lucky lady, sweetheart. You're a lovely boy, you'll make a great husband for someone some day" You smile warmly, noticing that little cocky smile on his face.

"You think so? Cause I mean, if things don't work out with you and your husband, I'd love to show you how well I'd treat a woman like you. Would make sure you know your worth." You've never heard him be so openly suggestive, usually he never goes further than a little harmless compliment while he's helping you with the dishes but today, he's so much more brazen.

But you laugh it off, telling him that you and your husband have been married too long to call it quits now, hoping that'll be the end of the discussion.

At dinner though, your husband hardly takes the time to look at you while Bucky sits beside you, showering you in compliments. "Fuck, I'll never understand how you get those carrots to taste so good." He groans, helping himself to a few more from the dish in the centre of the table.

"They're just roasted with butter, honey and brown sugar, Buck. Nothing special." You smile, watching as he happily clears the serving he just put on his plate.

"Guess it must just be you that makes them special." He smirks and you can't take anymore. Your son isn't paying attention and your husband certainly isn't so you take the chance, placing your hand on Bucky's knee under the table.

Bucky looks up at you but doesn't react, hoping this is going where he thinks it's going.

And of course it does, your hand eventually creeping higher as he tries to keep his cool, stifling a groan as you work your hand over the growing bulge in his jeans. He's always at least half hard when you're around. You just seem to have that affect on him but the feeling of your hand rubbing just where he needs to feel you most has him throbbing, trying to contain himself.

He registers that your husband has asked you something and he registers that you answered but he doesn't pick up any more than that because your hand is torturing him. He so desperately wants to fuck you right then and there, it's all he can think of. He wants to bend you over the dining room table and make your husband watch how a real man would treat you but he holds himself back.

You barely breathe a word to each other as you wash the dishes and he dries them, all of your usual flirtatious banter has dissolved into an unbearable tension. It hangs in the air, neither of you daring to so much as look at the other for fear of the band snapping, making you give in to the temptation.

But when the band does snap, boy does it snap. Your eyes lock on his accidentally and you both move at once. It's needy and passionate and far too desperate, his hands gripping your waist like you're a figment of his imagination. His mouth is so hungry on yours, his lips sliding over your own, barely leaving room for your breathy gasps. He can't get enough of you and you can't get enough of him as he presses you against the kitchen counter, his hard cock pressed against you as his lips begin to trail down your neck.

But God, you can't do this here. Your husband and son are in the next room but it's so long overdue, you can't stop now that you've started. So it's not long until you're driving him to the store, beyond thankful that he has some excuse prepared about needing to go grocery shopping. Your husband doesn't even listen when you tell him you're going out because if he did, he'd realise the store you told him you were going to is closed on Sundays.

Instead, you find yourself in an empty parking lot, in the back seat of your car, underneath this sweet boy who can't tear your clothes off fast enough. His mouth is on yours, his tongue firm and insistent against your own, his bulge grinding against your core in the cramped back seat.

"You know how fuckin' hard it is to watch you play wife for him? That asshole doesn't deserve you." Bucky's lost in thought, panting against your neck as he tears your blouse off.

"Bucky please, don't wanna think of him. Wanna think of you." You gasp, feeling his mouth latch onto one of your nipples, tugging it with his teeth.

"God, your body. You're fucking beautiful and I bet you don't even know it. Jerked off to you more times than I can count." He admits and it sends want throbbing through you.

"Please baby, just fuck me. C-can't take it. Need feel you fill me up." You sound so needy, shamelessly begging to be fucked that he can't help but groan.

"Oh babe, you can't say shit like that. I'm gonna send you back home with that cute little cunt stuffed full of my cum." His voice is strained as you lift your skirt up, exposing your bare, dripping cunt to his hungry gaze while he pulls his jeans down just enough to free his cock.

"You're so perfect. Know that fuckin' pussy tastes so good but I- I can't. Needa feel you cummin' around me. Been dreaming about it for far too long." He groans, giving himself a few firm strokes before pressing his tip to your eager hole, pressing inside in a way that leaves you both moaning.

"S-so tight and wet oh my God. Gonna treat you right. Want you to cum so hard, you forget everything but my name, you got that? This pretty pussy is mine now isn't it? Tell me I own your cunt." He's growling against your skin as he starts to thrust into you and you can only whimper out a response, overwhelmed by how good he feels and how filthy this sweet boy truly is.

[x3kristax3]

Eternal Love

Chapter 2

It's been a week since that morning I came home. It's been seven days and who knows how many hours since he left me. My heart aches in ways I can't even describe. Jessy has stopped by making sure I eat and cleaning up. She finally got me to talk the other night and we drowned ourselves in wine and ice cream while watching horror movies. I haven't told Dan yet and I know that conversation was coming tonight as it was the night he and Jessy always came around to have fun.

I manage to get out of bed and move to the couch with my laptop. I have never been more grateful for this job than I am now. It allows me to work from home and as long as I tell my boss in advance no video chats. I just told him I was sick but still able to work. Eventually I know that isn't going to work but it's been a blessing this week.

I keep checking my phone all day hoping for something from him. Something to explain but still nothing. Instead I have a text from Lilly, I curse her under my breath. She only wants to talk to see how he is.

Lilly: MC, everything okay? We haven't heard from him or you.

MC: No everything isn't okay and please stop talking to me only to find out how he is. He left me a week ago and told me to move on.

MC: I'm gonna say you and Hannah should do the same thing and just forget him!

I sign off just as fast as I send that message and I'm glad it's the end of the day. I head into the kitchen and grab the Jack Daniels and take a drink from the bottle. It burns going down but at least it's a feeling. I hear the door unlock as Jessy has a key. 

"I don't know why you didn't knock like we always do" Dan states.

I sigh, I hope she doesn't tell him why. I turn around with the bottle still in my hand and I see them in the doorway.

"Hey don't start the fun without me" Dan laughs.

I smile the best I can and he instantly knows something is wrong.

"Still nothing?" My red haired best friend asks and I shake my head while taking another drink.

"What is going on?" Asks Dan.

"Jake is gone," I say, looking away from him. He wraps his arms around me. He's finally started walking again after the accident and I just cry into his chest.

"We will make you forget all about him," Dan says, lifting my head up. I lean against him not being able to say anything. 

I was expecting an 'I told you he was bad news' or something along those lines from Dan but he instantly goes into best friend mode.

Jessy grabs out all the junk food she has brought over and we make a table top on the bar between that and different alcohol. These two know exactly what I need after having my heartbroken by the man I thought was my forever. 

We pile on the couch and throw in movies after movies. I remember taking a silly picture of us but I don't do anything with it.

Jakes POV:

It's been seven days and 16 hours since I left her. I never wanted to fall in love but she did it. She made me fall in love with her. 

Tonight I'm in an abandoned warehouse tracking my pursuers. Sleep has not been my friend in a while and this last week has been worse. Everytime I close my eyes I see her smile, her sleeping. I feel her curled up against me afraid to lose me.

You see when I told her my location I knew what was going to happen. I knew she wouldn't let go of me but I needed to see her and feel her touch and kisses one more time before I broke her heart. Those hazel eyes as she spun around were full of love and feeling safe.

I knew I could never be HER safe haven. I also know she would give up everything for me if I so much as hinted at it.

I couldn't bring her into this world, more than I already had. She needed to live her life normally, before she got dragged into finding Hannah and falling in love with me. She needs a normal future, one not on the constant run. I have no idea when I can give her that and I knew it from the start. 

You see she's the good girl, the girl every guy wants. I'm troubled, she knew that but still fell. It's the typical good girl who falls in love with the bad boy. What the normal story doesn't tell is how the bad boy fell in love with her, but just wanted to keep her safe.

I hear my phone go off and I look and it's Lilly. I hadn't reached out and I wasn't planning on going until I knew I was safe. I sigh as I open the location on MC. I have to make sure they aren't tracking her. She's at home like she has been since she entered back in. I could pull up her webcam but it would just break my heart. I do follow her social media but lately she hasn't been posting but I keep a watch.

I see a photo pop up, which is odd at the time. It's a photo of her, Jessica, and Daniel curled up on the couch with drinks. I read the caption and my heart breaks.

When your world is falling apart, you can't ask for more than best friends, Jack Daniels, and lots of junk food.

The photo looks odd then I realize it's taken at night and it's now the next morning… eight days since I saw her smile at me, even in her sleep.

I set Nymos up and lean back on the couch trying to catch some sleep hoping she doesn't haunt my dreams.

[justoneofthoseghosts]

Brettsey + 'that was supposed to be a surprise!'

"That was supposed to be a surprise," Stella mentions as she folds her arms around her chest before sighing.

Sylvie looks at the firefighter then at the supposed surprise in front of her. She blinks a few times to make sure she wasn't seeing things.

Matt was standing in front of her, smiling shyly.

She was at the loft with Stella binge watching season five of Friends when she mentioned something about needing to go to the bathroom. For some reason, Stella tried to steer her into the bathroom in their bedroom but she just laughed it off, saying that she was fine with using the bathroom she always did when she came around.

Huh.

At least now she knew why Stella was acting shifty all afternoon when Sylvie stopped by unannounced with a bag filled with all junk food imaginable - ice cream, brownies, gummy bears, chocolate and a couple of bottles of wine. It had been a week since Stella and Kelly's wedding and exactly a week since she and Matt decided to take a break.

It was a tough decision and all she wanted was some girl time to take her mind off of things and also, maybe to keep her from drunk dialing his number and telling him how much she missed him. She reminded herself that it was for the best. Matt was happy in Portland. He was thriving even. He loved Griffin and Ben and in the short span of time that he had been out there, managed to turn things around for the boys.

Which really did not explain what he was doing here in the middle of a bathroom at the loft in Chicago.

She continues to stare at him wide eyed before Stella sighs again.

"You know what, I think Kelly needs some help at the Academy today so I'm just going to go help him," she says loudly to get both of their attentions.

Sylvie knew it was just an excuse to leave and she begins to feel panic.

"What?" Sylvie questions, whirling around to face her best friend, silently conveying how she could not leave Sylvie alone with Matt. It had only been a week after all. The wound was still fresh. It hadn't even scabbed over yet.

Stella shrugs, "I think Casey has something he needs to tell you in private so I'm just - yeah, I'm gonna go."

Before Sylvie can stop her, Stella grabs her keys and makes her way out, smirking at them before she closes the door.

"I - I think I should go too," Sylvie whispers more to herself really as she looks around.

"Please don't go," Matt replies.

Sylvie glances at him. She can see the vulnerability in his eyes. She knows he's nervous by the way he jams him hands into his pockets.

"What are you doing here, Matt?"

He rakes his fingers through his hair and Sylvie notices how he cut it short again, almost the same length he had before he moved to Portland.

"I came to Chicago to see you but then I realized it would have been stupid to just show up at your door without a plan so I came here instead hoping to convince Severide and Stella to help me out," he informs her.

"Help you out with what?" She asks, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"To think of a way to show you that I don't want to take a break. Stella suggested flooding your apartment with 5,000 daisies but I don't think it would have been very practical," he remarks before chuckling.

Sylvie starts to imagine what 5,000 daisies would look like in her living room before she manages to register Matt's first few words.

She blinks before responding, "you don't want to take a break?"

Matt shakes his head, "I realized right after I left that it was a mistake. Portland is a pit stop, Sylvie. It's a change of pace for sure but it's never going to be my home."

"But you're doing so well there," Sylvie reasons. She's seen first hand how he fit into Oregon - with the Darden boys and at his new firehouse. He had created something so special there.

"I am but it's not the same because a part of me was and is always with you," Matt confesses, "I can spend two and a half more years in Portland because I know that when that ends and hopefully, it ends with Ben in college, it will mean that I can come home - to you. That's always been the plan. My goal was always to come back and spend my life with you."

"Matt."

"I understand if you need some time to think about it. It's a big ask but I love you and I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least tell you this. I should have told you this when asked me how long we could keep this up at the wedding. Believe me, I'm still kicking myself at my reply. Maybe it was just me spinning out that night - being at Stella and Severide's wedding made me a bit reflective and maybe I thought you deserved more than what I could offer you but then I realized that maybe I could be a bit selfish about the things I want. We've spent so long circling each other and so little time together before this big change but I know what I want," he says as he takes a step closer. When Sylvie doesn't back away, he walks even closer until he's right in front of her and Sylvie can see the freckles on the tip of his nose.

"And what is it that you want?" She asks, her voice challenging.

"You - I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Sylvie and if that means that we need to come up with a weekly FaceTime schedule or I need to book airline tickets 10 months in advance to come to Chicago to see you, I'm willing to put in the work because you are worth it. You are so worth it, Sylvie."

"You flew all the way to tell me this?" Sylvie wonders.

Matt nods, "I didn't want to say it on the phone or through a text because I wanted you to hear it from me personally. I love you, Sylvie."

"I love you too," she replies. She didn't mean to say it but it just slips out. It was so easy to say, like breathing, because it was the truth. She still loved him and the only reason why she asked for a break was because she didn't want some vague future, a perpetual question mark. She didn't need a play by play of the next three years but she at least wanted to know where they were headed and if they were even going in the same direction.

Matt grins at her but she can see that there was still a question in his eyes, "does this mean -"

"Yes," she says.

"Thank God," he utters before leaning in to kiss her.

The next two and a half years would by no means be easy, Sylvie knew, but at least now they were on the same page, reading from the same book.

"Would the 5,000 daisies have worked?"

She laughs, rolling her eyes at him before pulling him back in for another kiss.

[prof-peach]

Hello there.. My name is Ranny and I saw Pokemon matchups are open.

I read somewhere among your posts that Ghost types could be good for little exposure to the outside? I could be mistaken, but I'll leave it to the expert.

I feel I'm quite.. difficult.. to matchup with and I can't think of something myself, I don't want to hinder any Pokemon's growth with my circumstances.. which I should probably explain? I guess I don't need to go into too much detail but I have a lot of anxiety and depression, social anxieties and ptsd (very reactive to things moving too fast above me). I have fluctuating agoraphobia also, when at a severe level being too close to windows and doors will trigger panic attacks.. I have mobility issues down to Fibromyalgia, communication and management difficulties due to Autism, and I have a hard time concentrating or get lost in hyperfocussing down to ADHD..

I'm very introverted, an INFJ personality, but I do get lonely, very lonely. My depression pretty much has me feeling low more often than not but also pretty hopeless in finding a Pokemon friend, partner, companion, or anything that won't ultimately become hindered by my existence..

Any shred of hope I have of finding someone, even if just the right direction toward one, has been poured into this.. But ultimately, please don't feel too bad if you can't think of any or don't have any available.

I have seen many specialists for my mental and physical health too, it's a painfully slow process, I just thought some company might help the journey perhaps..

Fingers crossed, huh?

Many kind regards, Ranny

The right thing you did here was explain. I’m able to give you a far more accurate suggestion because of that, so thank you for being honest about what you need a Pokemon for, aside from good company.

You’re not wrong, finding a Pokemon must have been hard for you, no one individual Pokemon could cover all the bases. That being said, a group of three low impact species could indeed help you here.

Because your situation is so specific, there’s a little less wiggle room on what you could get away with keeping, but for sure you have some choices.

So first off, emotional help, shuppet. A Pokemon happy to be indoors, often willing to help those who show them love. They’ll help regulate the moods, keep you calmer, happier, and overall more freed up to handle other things. The feelings of anxiety and depression are exhausting, You know that, but without that constant background noise of it all, you’ll have a lot more energy and opportunity to enjoy more things. In serious cases, even two shuppet would help, so talk to your doctor and also the pokecentres near you about this. This of course can be done over the phone or online, if it suits you better. Shuppet are underrated, and have high populations in the wild, I don’t know why folks overlook them, perhaps the dex entries around the species spook them. Either way, can’t suggest better than them.

Second up, indoor happy psychic types. The psychic lines are adept at aiding day to day, if you hurt and can’t reach something, or you feel tired and can’t get up to deal with going to the bathroom or something, they’re more than capable of using telekinetic powers to assist your movements, even in the bad days. Some are fully able to learn how to help regulate moods too, predicting panic attacks for their trainers, using various methods to help you before things get too stressful, or even dangerous. They also regulate brain waves, so your autism may feel a little easier to manage the longer you spend with a psychic partner. It’s proven most psychic types will do this automatically, to aid their human family day to day.

My top psychic pokemon picks for you:

solosis - a Pokemon that can and does exist in the vacuum of space, they don’t require food like average Pokemon, and have a very upbeat outlook on things more often than not, thrive indoors, so long as they get enrichment and company.

Espurr - correctly trained these Pokemon can also double up as a really good buddy for those who feel calmer when petting or brushing fur. They can be great loving companions, but also are notoriously happy entertaining themselves should you be busy, and find the life of an indoor Pokemon quite agreeable sometimes.

If I was in your position, and I felt like I could afford and handle three, I would get all three Pokemon I suggested. This gives them days off, time to relax, and breaks from the duties of a support Pokemon. Everything needs time out, so having a care rotor will allow them to plan for time out, to do things they enjoy too.

You’ll have to take this list to your local adoption centre, or even lab/professor, and they will help to put you on a waiting list for the correct species you decide upon in the end. You can’t just go and catch one from the wild in this case, these Pokemon all need very intense and specific lessons to help them be the best aids to you. The facility that eventually helps you find a set of partners will then try to match your personality to those of the support Pokemon then have ready to be rehomed. Get ready for a few visits to the facilities, to meet potential matches, but it’s well worth it. The company and love Pokemon give us is proven to aid in mood, and wellbeing. I think it’d really do you well to take at least a shuppet on.

Be aware, when possible it’s still nice for these Pokemon to go outside, even if you don’t. If you have access to a yard, or a shared garden, try to let them have time in the sun when possible if they are interested. Socialising them is also advised, even if only with friends and family’s Pokemon, send them with trusted individuals to the shops, just to take a break from the house, you know, normal junk like that.

The facility that will eventually assign you a partner will make sure to pick individuals who suit your lifestyle as best as possible, so you shouldn’t end up with a partner who isn’t ok with the conditions you’ve set out.

Do not lose hope, there’s a combo out there for everyone, and I think this set is a good one for you from what you’ve told me. Hopefully you can move forward and make some neat friends!

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 9 - FINALE)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 7.2k

warnings: smut (oral f receiving), semi-public sex (in a parked car) angst, arguments, implied smut, sappiness, time skips, some alcohol consumption here and there, lots of talking about issues including bucky's ptsd, I really have no idea how to warn for this but IT’S THE END SO STRAP IN FOLKS

Since that night, it had been like a stand-off in a Western movie, none of you saying anything because you had no idea what to say. Whenever he tried to start the conversation, you brushed him off.

You took a cab home from the event. He slept in his own room for the first time in months.

Finally, suddenly, you were ready to talk about it nearly 30 hours later, knocking on the guest room door and entering to find Bucky on his bed, re-reading Flowers for Algernon. He sat up quickly and shut it, setting it aside. “Hey,” he greeted softly, hesitant like you were a deer in a clearing and he was extending a handful of grain in his palm.

“Hey,” you returned, already fighting back your emotions. “I think I’m ready to talk.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’m ready to listen.”

“I just… I want to make sure that you understand this is a really big deal.”

He nodded again.

“I had to do a lot of damage control to prevent being banned from all HFPA events— that includes the Golden Globes, you know, I can’t exactly skip those just because my boyfriend went fucking nuts at a party.” And there was the anger again— you had tried to wait until you could be neutral about this but it barely lasted, mainly because you were still embarrassed about the way you’d handled yourself that night. “You’re lucky not many people saw; you’re lucky no reporters were there! Can you imagine if someone had a fucking picture of this? There were cameras everywhere, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking!” he defended. “I saw you with him and he was touching you and I just… I saw red.”

You sighed slowly. “That’s not a good thing. That’s really, really concerning.”

“I know, I agree— you’re right. I need…” he trailed off, taking a breath before starting over. “I need to work on that.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I just… I can’t really be a part of that. You need to work on that on your own.”

He stood up instantly, almost looking… afraid? Terrified, really, and heartbroken. “On my own, like what? What does that mean?”

“It means that I think maybe you should go back to your own apartment for a while. I just… need to be alone for a bit.”

“You need to be alone?” he repeated. “Or you need to be away from me?’

“Both.”

His head fell into his hands instantly. "Please don't tell me I fucked this up," he whimpered. "Please don't tell me I ruined this."

"I— I don't know."

"Please, please, please," he sighed, just louder than a whisper, suddenly stepping forward, grabbing your hand and clutching it to his chest. "Look at me," he begged.

You did, hesitantly, fighting everything in you that wanted to cry (and not doing so good of a job at it).

"Please, I lo—"

"Don't," you grimaced. "Don't say that."

"But it's true."

"It doesn't matter!" you yelped, surprising both of you with your volume.

“Are we going to have a chance to talk about this again? Am I going to get a chance to make it up to you?”

“You don’t make it up to me, you fix it. And that takes time.”

He shook his head, looking shocked and confused and completely blindsided which made you feel sick to your stomach. “How long?”

“I don’t know…” you mumbled.

“Am I not going to see you at all, for however long it takes?” he pressed.

“I… that’s sort of the idea.”

He shivered and pulled you into a hug. “Please don’t hate me forever,” he whispered against the top of your head.

“I don’t hate you,” you promised, doing your best not to hug him back even though all you wanted was to wrap yourself around him and feel safe in his arms again.

“Then don’t make me go,” he pleaded as he pulled back, clutching your face. “Let me stay and we can work through this together.”

“That’s not how this works,” you reminded him

“But I don’t know how to be without you,” he explained shakily.

“That’s not really my problem!” you yelped, and he turned away like he’d been slapped, dropping his hands from your face. A long, heavy silence fell between you as you watched him stand there, contemplating.

“If this is my last chance,” he finally spoke softly, barely breaking the silence, “to say everything I want to say…”

“It’s not,” you assured. “We’re going to talk about this again, but you need to go now.”

He nodded, his adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow of nothing. When he looked at you again, you hated how much bluer his eyes looked when they were bloodshot and filled with tears. “Can I kiss you?”

You shook your head. He bit his lip and turned to walk away; you stared at your feet because you couldn’t watch him go.

You heard him grab his backpack, shoving a few things from the drawers into it; he set his key on the table, walked into the open hall, and as soon as you heard the front door open and shut you were plunged into solitude and silence. With a whimper, you crumpled to the floor and cried, the look of betrayal on his face burned into your mind.

It was obvious, to your horror, that he really hadn’t seen it coming; he hadn’t packed his things, or prepared in any way for the conversation going like that. He had been waiting for an olive branch and got a switch to the face instead. You didn’t know anything about working on relationships, repairing broken things… when something went wrong, all you knew how to do was bail.

You knew how to do a new take and say the line right this time. You knew how to take off your eyeliner and start over. You knew how to kick unsuspecting C-listers out of cars because you already got yours. But you didn’t know how to stay, and work, and frankly you were just too scared to try. Last time you tried to make it work, you got burned. And as much as a logical part of you knew that wasn’t Bucky’s fault or responsibility, your heart just couldn’t survive another relationship where you put everything into putting the pieces back together while the other person stood there and watched you just to pull them apart again.

It had to end at some point, right? It was you, it was him… and that’s just how these things go.

//

He knew it was too good to be true. He knew you were too good for him. Anybody with at least one eyeball and half a brain could see that. But still, he hadn’t been ready to let you go.

Being in his apartment felt like stopping in a ghost town; there might as well have been a tumbleweed rolling through the living room. It was beyond a bachelor pad: it was more like an unfinished work site, considering his ‘couch’ was cinderblocks and a few two-by-fours, and his bed was a mattress on the floor.

One toothbrush. No books. A half-empty shampoo bottle in the shower and some hard water stains he needed to scrub away at some point.

This place didn’t feel like a home, it barely felt like a livable space. It was a three-dimensional homage to how empty his life had been before you, and he realized that was only his own fault.

Then again, this was all his fault.

But still, he had let himself obsess over you, turn you into his whole world and it made him into somebody he didn’t want to be. He had been working so hard to keep you happy, inspired more than anything by his fear to lose you, that he’d forgotten to give you space and now here he was… giving you so much more space than he ever wanted to, or knew how to deal with.

But he wanted to use this, if he could. As much as it was tempting to binge on junk food, drink too much and watch porn for an hour, as much as he wanted to run away from everything he was feeling, he owed it to you and to himself to face it all and learn from it. He wanted to be the man you deserved, if that was even humanly possible; he wanted to be who you used to think he was.

//

The next week went by in a blur: a blur filled with shitty romcoms, Ben & Jerry’s straight from the carton, and phone calls ignored.

It would all be fine with time, you knew that, but god, it fucking hurt now. It made you want to call him and at least apologize for having sex with him when you knew he wouldn’t have wanted to if he knew you were upset. More time and distance from the situation made you appreciate that it was manipulative, even if it by no means justified the way he grabbed you, or shoving anybody in the first place.

Truth was, you were scared of Bucky long before that happened. You were scared of how strong your feelings were for him; and, in turn, you were scared of how strong his feelings were for you. You felt loved by him, and you didn’t know what to do with that. So you self-destructed.

Just in time to tear you out of your spiralling thoughts, the intercom buzzed from the front gate. You furrowed your brow, wondering who it could be, and got up to check the camera feed.

You couldn’t see the face of the driver, just his arm, but you’d recognize that Rolex on his wrist anywhere.

“What do you want?” you asked coldly, holding down the intercom talk button.

"Let me in," Sam instructed.

"And why should I?"

"Cause if you don't, I'll press charges against your boyfriend."

BEEP BEEP BEEP! the gate announced its opening.

You took the time while he parked his car and walked to the door to throw out the wrappers from all your questionable “meals” (i.e., candy and ramen), change into slightly nicer sweats and splash your face so you looked slightly less dead. Just as you came downstairs from your rushed primping, Sam knocked on the door and you turned off the TV, tossing the remote aside. “It’s open!” you called out.

He turned the knob and stepped in with just one foot, peering around.

“Is the Terminator home?” he asked coyly. “Cause I actually think I’ve been assaulted enough for one week.”

“No, he’s gone. And don’t call him that.”

“What?” he shrugged, finally coming all the way in and letting the door swing shut on its own, taking his shades off and sliding them into the collar of his v-neck shirt. “It’s a compliment, and you really invite the killer robot comparisons when you’re part robot, look like a killer, and act like a thug.”

“He’s sensitive about the arm, okay? It’s one of the reasons he… it’s part of why we waited so long to go public.”

Sam glanced down to beside the door, where three pairs of your shoes were haphazardly lined up while his boots were noticeably absent. “And the fact that he’s moved out? When’s that gonna go public?” He always had an eye for these things, the bastard.

“I… I don’t know,” you sighed. “What do you want, exactly? Because honestly, I really can’t handle you right now.”

“I’m just trying to be a friend,” he explained, stepping closer again as you leaned against the breakfast bar.

“You seemed a lot more than friendly on Saturday,” you reminded him. “God, Sam, why did you have to do that?”

“So it’s my fault, then?” he rolled his eyes.

“No, of course not,” you assured, “but you knew I wasn’t single. I was actually happy… did you even want me back? Or did you just want to fuck with my life?”

“I did want you back, really.” He paused for a moment, more serious than he almost ever got. “I still do.”

You scoffed, looking away. “What happened to just being a friend?”

“That’s not why I’m here, this time. I’m just here to tell you that I’m worried about you.”

You took your weight off the bar and circled it into the kitchen, Sam mirroring you by following around the other side. “Do you want something to drink?” you asked, opening the fridge. He opened his mouth to answer but then leaned in as he stared at your hand where it was right in front of his face gripping the refrigerator’s door handle.

"He did that to you?" Sam pointed to the bruise on your wrist. You let go of the fridge and pulled your sleeve down to cover it again but that was answer enough. "Jesus, babe, this guy's fucking crazy."

"He's not crazy, and don't call me that," you frowned. "I don't think he meant to, really— his prosthetic is powerful and it was in need of a recalibration. He shouldn’t have grabbed me, but, he probably didn’t mean to do it so hard.”

Sam didn’t seem too convinced by that explanation, but didn’t say anything.

“Believe it or don’t, Sam, but either way it’s none of your business,” you frowned.

“Right, I know,” he nodded. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“And that’s you?” you pressed with an incredulous raised brow, opening the fridge again to grab yourself a green juice (because you were, again, trying to look like you had your shit together) and starting to walk away.

“I’ve changed, believe it or not,” he explained as he followed you out of the kitchen again. “Occasionally, people are capable of that.”

“If that’s true, then I owe it to Bucky to wait for him like I said I would,” you shot back. “I told him to leave so we could work on things separately. Not so I could entertain your come-to-Jesus moment.”

“It’s not a ‘come-to-Jesus’ moment, it’s just a ‘give me another chance’ moment,” he corrected as you took a long sip of the juice, “it’s a ‘maybe we ended things too soon’ moment.”

You looked at him in silent judgment as you kept drinking, and the way he was looking at you made you glad the glass bottle was keeping your lips occupied.

“It’s an ‘I’m still in love with you’ moment.”

Before you could stop yourself, you spit the juice right onto him, covering your mouth in shock just a moment too late.

For one of those indefinite moments, you were just staring at each other while you both contemplated that you had said he loved you and you had spat juice onto him.

“Okay, I was prepared to get shot down,” he admitted. “This is… worse.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you rushed, trying not to laugh, “I… I’ll get some paper towels, I can get you a new shirt, but it’ll have to be one of the ones Bucky left behind…”

“Oh god, it’s sticky,” he grimaced, as he tried to peel his shirt from his skin, “can I just use your shower maybe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you nodded, “upstairs and down—”

“I remember where it is,” he reminded you as he stepped past you to make his way to the bathroom. “I knew I should’ve waited to say it until she was done drinking…” you heard him mumble to himself before he disappeared and you heard the bathroom door shut.

But truthfully, it wasn’t really the fact that he said it, or the concept of Sam loving you at all that made you spit out your drink. It was that when he said it, you realized you were in love with Bucky. Which, yes, would’ve been obvious to anyone else but it came as quite a shock to you.

It made you realize that you wanted to make this work. You wanted to be vulnerable, you wanted to try, even if it ended just as badly as it nearly had last week; even if it meant dealing with all the shit that you’d pushed down for so long.

You wanted to have another chance, this time knowing how hard it would be to be without him.

Just as you pondered what to do with that realization, a knock at the door startled you. Who could have made it to the door without buzzing the intercom?

Somebody who has the gate code already, you realized, and your heart sank. You weren’t ready to see him again— specifically, you weren’t ready to be seen by him again. Sure, cleaning up the trash and splashing your face was enough for a guest like Sam, but you had been imagining that when you saw Bucky again you’d be all dolled up looking like you were doing better than ever, like you were thriving without him just to rub it in that you were the best he ever had.

Couldn’t he have just waited a few hours after your realization so you could go to him on your own terms, with your whole speech prepared and everything? As an actress, you were much more comfortable reading lines than improvising.

Another knock made you sigh and set down the half-empty bottle of green juice, running up to the door to answer it.

“Hi,” he greeted soberly when you opened the door.

“Hey,” you nodded back, “listen, now’s not a great time…”

“Listen, I’m not here to cause any problems, or ask you for anything, I just need some of my stuff back,” he explained.

“Okay, it would’ve been better if you had come at another time—”

“I know, I’m not trying to invade your space,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have used the gate code, I didn’t mean to surprise you, honestly it was just second nature but I realize now I should’ve called first— well, I don’t think you’re taking my calls right now—”

“Bucky, please, we can talk later,” you assured, trying to shut the door.

“Can we?” he sighed. “I mean, will we?”

“Yes, but I’m busy right now,” you explained.

“When?” he asked, voice full of hope. “Soon?”

“I— I don’t know, sure,” you shrugged.

“You’re just saying that to get me to leave,” he realized flatly. “I understand, I don’t blame you— god, I just hate how scared you are of me. I’m everything I never wanted to be. I just wanted to keep you safe and now I can’t even do that, now you think of me as a threat. You should have the gate code changed, if it’ll make you sleep better—”

“I sleep fine, just go and we’ll deal with all of this soon— really, I promise!”

“You promised before and this week without you has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!” he returned, getting more emotional as he gestured with his hands. “I’m not saying this should all go away in a week, there’s so much more I have to do, but… but not being able to see you at all is killing me. And it’s not like I don’t see you, your movies are on every fucking channel, but you know, I don’t get to really see you, talk to you— that’s what I miss, I miss when we would talk for hours.”

“I miss that too,” you agreed, “it’s all going to happen, it’s just that I need you to go right now—”

And of course, Sam picked just the right time to come running down your staircase with only a towel around his waist.

Bucky tensed up as he saw Sam, jaw tightening. "Oh."

You had no idea what would happen. Was Bucky going to attack him again? Would Sam try to hit Bucky? Were you going to drop dead from sheer embarrassment?

Instead, Bucky just sighed a little and looked to the ground, almost laughing though he seemed anything but amused. “You’ve got a funny idea of what ‘being alone’ means,” he sneered.

“Sam was just—” you began to defend.

"No, it’s okay, I see how it is," Bucky informed you quietly, coldly. He didn’t even seem angry anymore, just defeated. "I'll leave. I'm sorry that I… I'm sorry."

And he turned to leave, you reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait, it's not—"

He shrugged your hand away as he kept walking, forcing you to chase him.

"Don't leave, please— Bucky, I love you too."

He stopped, but didn't turn around yet; you just stood behind him, staring at his back as it rose and fell with a slow breath. When he looked back at you, his eyes were red, brimming with tears and heartbreak. "Don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean it," you promised.

“And what does that mean for us?”

“I… I don’t know,” you admitted.

“I don’t think I’m ready to come back yet. As much as I miss living with you— and as much as my apartment is so gross—”

You giggled a little, glad you could laugh with him again even if just for a second.

“I need more time. I’m not going to subject you to me until I know I can be… stable, again.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “Whatever you need.”

“But maybe we could… go out sometime? Somewhere where there aren’t paparazzi, ideally?”

“Uh, Vermont?” you offered jokingly. “I’ll find somewhere, though. We’ll talk this all out.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing a little. “Okay.”

With obvious hesitance, he leaned in slightly and gave you a kiss on the forehead. You wanted more than anything to get up on your tiptoes and kiss his lips, but it was probably too soon. He smiled down at you slightly before he turned to walk away, and you did the same as you made it back into the house.

“Hey, listen,” you began as you found Sam still waiting in a towel looking completely lost.

“That doesn’t sound like the beginning of good news,” he sighed.

“I’m so glad you were honest with me and I’m still really sorry for spitting on you, and for Bucky shoving you, and for everything awful that went down between us. And some part of me is always gonna love you, but—”

“I know,” he nodded, clearly disappointed but resigned in a peaceful way. “It’s okay. I had my chance, I blew it, and if this Bucky guy has his then I just hope he isn’t taking it for granted.”

You smiled a little. “He’s not.”

“Then I’ll get dressed and go. Please direct me to his favorite shirt, so that I may steal it,” he requested formally, making you laugh, but you weren’t ready to let it go just yet; instead, you stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re a good friend, Sam,” you mumbled against his bare chest.

“Yeah, kinda wish I wasn’t though,” he sighed as he hugged you back.

“Kinda wish I’d made you get dressed before hugging you,” you admitted, the awkwardness of his nudity finally catching up with you.

“Yeah…” he agreed in a whispered sigh.

//

His palms were actually sweaty; well, at least one of them was. He hadn’t been this worked up about a date since high school.

But there was so much more riding on that now than there was then. If he blew this, you probably would dump him for good, and he’d become ‘that guy Y/N Y/L/N dated for a minute’ to the rest of the world.

And there was so much more to him than that— he was learning to really let that shine after three weeks of therapy on Mondays and Thursdays— and so much more to his relationship with you, but it would still be pretty humiliating. More importantly, he would be heartbroken if he never got a chance to hold you again, kiss you again, tell you he loved you not during a fight…

His eyes glanced to the door instinctively when someone stepped in, but it still wasn’t you. He checked his watch and closed his eyes: it was still a few minutes early, you probably wouldn’t be here until 6:30, since that was when you’d agreed to meet when you discussed all this over text. But the length of time between 6:27 and 6:30 just seemed to keep getting longer and longer.

When you finally walked in, it was like one of those movie moments where everything slowed down, the ambient noise and background music faded away, and all he could see was you. If this was it, at least he got to see you like this one last time.

He waved you over, watching you walk closer and feeling his heart race as you pulled him into a hug.

“I missed you,” he blurted out right away.

“Missed you too,” you mumbled back, pulling from the embrace as he moved to pull out your chair for you.

“So,” he began as he sat down, “do you… want me to go first? Or do you want to go first?”

“I love you,�� you said instantly, and he couldn’t fight a wide smile.

“I love you too,” he whispered back.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” you grinned, “I think you should go first.”

“Well, now that you say that suddenly I forget everything I’ve been practicing in the mirror all day,” he chuckled. “I already told you I’ve been in therapy, and they finally got me on stuff for my PTSD… it feels weird to say it, to talk about it like I really have it… but I do, and I’m working on not being ashamed of that. What I am ashamed of is the way I treated you that day, how I let my anger get the best of me and how I hurt you when you’re the most important person in my life. You didn’t deserve that. And if I haven’t said it enough, I’m truly sorry.”

“I know,” you nodded, “thank you. I’m glad you’re getting help… I don’t want to see you like that for your own sake, too.”

“Just because you don’t hate me doesn’t mean you have to forgive me. And just because you forgive me doesn’t mean you have to take me back,” he reminded you softly.

“But I do forgive you, and I do want you back,” you promised. “And I want to apologize, too, for the things I did wrong… obviously it’s basically impossible for me to hurt you physically, you’re so much stronger than I am, but I hurt you with how I handled some things and I regret that.”

“It did hurt, but I still reacted poorly at basically every turn. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous of Sam in the first place, if you and him have something going on then that’s none of my business—”

“Of course it’s your business, Bucky, you’re my boyfriend!” you laughed. “You don’t need to be jumping for joy when I talk to my ex, you just need to not be that aggressive about it.”

“Am I your boyfriend?” he asked sheepishly. “Is he your ex?”

"When you came over the other day, and he was there… nothing happened, really. He came over, I told him I didn't want to be anything more than friends, he asked to use my shower… I don't know how to prove it to you—"

"You don't have to," he shook his head. "If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened."

“I mean, we hugged,” you remembered. “And he took your Fleetwood Mac shirt.”

“He what?” Bucky yelped, but then calmed himself down immediately. “Whatever, it’s fine, the point is that I have a lot of shit I still need to work on. Because the truth is, you’re not mine—”

“No, I—”

“Really, you’re not. You’re your own person. That’s what made me fall in love with you in the first place, I love that you’re independent and strong and… maybe a little crazy, but you’re exactly who you need to be. You don’t belong to me.”

“I don’t mind belonging to you as long as it’s fair, Bucky; as long as we belong to each other.”

“Sweetheart, you always had me,” he laughed. “From day one.”

“Then let’s figure your shit out. Believe it or not, I’ve got shit too… commitment issues, abandonment issues, daddy issues—”

“Ooh, I have that one too!” he beamed, making you laugh. “You know, when I was talking to my therapist, she had me do this thing where I talked about my hopes and stuff and, I don’t know, maybe it’s dumb but I wanted us to do that. I want to know what you’re hoping for for this.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “well, I’m hoping that you’ll move back in soon but not right away, maybe in a few months? I want us to get better at being apart, it’ll come in handy when I have to go to far off places for filming and stuff.”

“Totally with you,” he agreed, “might have to start buying some real furniture for my place though.”

“What about you?” you prompted.

“I’m hoping that you still think I'm cute enough to put up with some of my crap," he smirked, "if not all of it."

"Definitely," you grinned.

“I’m hoping that in the future, if you’re upset, you’ll tell me and we can work it out, and then have make-up sex," he added.

“Deal,” you chuckled.

“And, if I’m being honest,” he continued, leaning in closer and lowering his voice, “I’m hoping that I can take you home tonight.”

It was so simple, but it made a shiver run down your spine. This distance had caused more than just your heart to grow fonder, and you were craving his touch more than ever. “Where’s home?” you asked coyly.

“It’s wherever you wanna go,” he purred. “Your place, my place, the back of your car—”

“That one,” you nodded eagerly, “definitely that one.”

//

You wanted to go right then and there but he made you sit through the whole dinner, with all the trappings of wining and dining, though for you it sometimes felt more like whining and dying because you needed him so bad you couldn't think. But he stayed patient, keeping up the conversation, asking more about a new project you were tentatively linked with, telling you more about the newest improvements to his prosthetic.

He picked up the check, which was absurd to you but he insisted, and escorted you to your car as if his intentions were just gentlemanliness even though you knew it was far worse than that.

He (gently) pinned you up against the side of the car, kissing you slowly, making you melt like it was no effort for him at all. As his lips made their way to your ear, he whispered to you darkly, "get in the back and spread your legs for me."

You were sure you'd never obeyed an instruction so fast, hopping in and happily watching him climb in behind you. He instantly knelt down between your spread legs, holding you by your thighs as he pushed your dress up, and you were already lifting your hips up to let him pull your panties down to your ankles.

"So eager," he whispered happily, kissing his way up one of your legs and never breaking his gaze away from yours. Your mouth fell slack as you watched him get higher and higher, closer to where you were already dripping with need. "Been wanting to do this since that night, however many months ago, where I had to watch somebody else do this to you," he admitted with a grin that nipped at your inner thighs. "I know I've tasted you a thousand times since then, but I wanted to do it here."

There was a lot you could say to that, but it was all lost to a gasp as he licked one long, thin stripe right across your entrance and over your clit. Already you were shaking and grabbing his hair— he'd grown it out just enough that you could really dig your fingers into it, but even so he kept his teasing pace.

He kept going, that slow and torturous cycle where just as your clit got some much-needed attention, he started back over at your leaking opening again.

"The fuck are you doing down there, trying to figure how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop?" you finally groaned, making him chuckle at how demanding you'd become.

"I'm just making sure I do this right," he dismissed. "Want more, baby?"

"Please," you shuddered. "Need your tongue inside me."

He grinned and put you out of your misery, really latching his lips onto you now as he pushed his tongue inside and curled it against your g-spot. It was enough to make your back arch dramatically and your fingers clench on his hair, a little growl echoing out of his mouth and into your body in response.

Your legs were accidentally clamping down on his head each time he sucked on your clit, but he didn't seem to mind, if anything it egged him on.

"C-close, so close," you chanted our warning as his hands tightened on your thighs he gave wide laps to your throbbing button.

"Say you love me baby," he mumbled his demand against your skin.

"Bucky, yes, I love you," you whimpered. "Love you so much, fuck, I'm gonna come…"

He nodded as he wrapped his lips around your clit and kept sucking, harder than ever, until your whole body was literally quaking and you weren't sure if you had closed your eyes or if your vision just went black for a second. As if that weren't enough, he kept going until you had to push him off of you by his forehead, shivering and catching your breath as aftershocks rocked your body.

"You're so amazing," he groaned huskily as he sat up and pulled you into a rough kiss, the taste of your pleasure coating your tongue as it tangled with his. Just as you were about to reach down and attempt to operate his belt buckle with your tingling fingers, he pulled back from the kiss a moment too soon. "And now you get to drive yourself home," he grinned, patting you on the cheek reassuringly.

"What? That's it?!" you squawked.

"You just came so hard you nearly blacked out and you're asking me if that's it?" he smirked incredulously.

"I just thought you would want to, you know… go all the way," you explained, cringing at the immature phrase.

"Hey, I'm a gentleman, and this is still our first date," he reminded you.

"But aren't you, you know…?"

"Oh, I am," he nodded quickly, leaning in to bite at your neck. "Don't worry about me, princess, I can take care of myself." He chuckled at your whimper and pulled back to look right into your eyes. "But it's not about me, is it? You want my cock all for yourself, don't you?"

You nodded, making him giggle sweetly.

"Well, you're just gonna have to wait," he cooed, poking the tip of your nose with his finger and laughing harder at your needy whine. "We'll go out again next weekend and maybe if it goes well, it'll lead to something more, alright?"

"Okay," you sighed, "I can wait a week. I think."

He smiled and kissed you again, helping you pull your panties back up and rubbing your thigh appreciatively. "Goodnight," he whispered against your lips, slipping out of the car and shutting the door behind him.

You sighed and let your head fall back against the seat, watching out the window as he walked back to his bike. You hated to see him go, but you did love watching him walk away.

//

two years later…

“Will the Six Million Dollar Man be joining us?” Sam asked with a smirk as he glanced to the door of the bowling alley, checking to see if anyone had walked in.

“When he gets off of work,” you promised.

“Why do you call him that?” Natasha asked Sam innocently.

“You’ll see,” Sam promised, kissing his girlfriend on the cheek, but you figured there was a pretty good chance she wouldn't get the reference anyway.

Right on cue, Bucky appeared in the doorway and you and Sam waved him to the correct lane. “Hey guys,” he greeted, “hey babe,” he pulled you into a quick kiss. “And happy birthday, Sam.”

“Shh, keep it down, we don’t want any Hollywood people to find out that I’m aging,” Sam joked. “Are you gonna join the game or just observe?”

“I’ll join, if it’s not too late,” Bucky decided.

“Since when do you bowl?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“Since I got the prosthetic recalibrated to throw the perfect strike every time,” he winked.

Beers and turns went pretty quickly after that, light conversation interspersed in between, until the more raucous parts of the evening died down and you left Bucky for a moment to join Sam at the bar.

Sam nodded to acknowledge you as you leaned beside him, and you ordered yourself one more drink before you called it a night.

“So, Natasha,” you started the conversation, watching the way Sam couldn’t hide his smile. “She’s great.”

“Yeah, she’s really something,” he agreed. “I wanted you guys to meet her sooner, but you were gone filming for so long and all.”

“Don’t fuck this one up, Sam,” you threatened.

“I’m trying not to!” he defended, before looking around like he was trying to make sure no one was looking. As you furrowed your brow and wondered what he was up to, he pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and showed you a picture: a ring, with a massive diamond and accents of citrine.

“Holy shit…” you sighed, pulling the phone closer to get a better look.

“Had it custom made, I’m gonna pick it up tomorrow,” he explained, putting the phone away. “I don’t even know how I’m gonna ask her yet… I just know I need to snag this one before she slips through my fingers.”

“You’re really like a whole new man,” you realized aloud.

“I’m telling you, this girl… she really changed everything for me,” he sighed wistfully, and you nodded because you knew what that was like.

“I knew you just needed a good woman to straighten you out, Wilson,” you joked, patting him on the shoulder, “my only mistake was ever thinking it was me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I thought it was you, too,” he smiled softly. “I really loved you, even when I was stepping out on you… and I think I needed to love you, and to lose you, to be here now.   So, thank you.”

“Uh, you’re welcome, I guess,” you laughed a little, taking a slow sip of your drink.

“And if she says yes, I’m gonna need all the marriage advice you have to offer,” he bargained.

“I mean, we’ve only been married for a month,” you chuckled, “I don’t think we’re far enough into it to really provide significant guidance.”

“And you’ve already gone through so much together.  Is he doing alright?  You know, his nightmares and stuff…”

You glanced over and where Bucky and Natasha were chatting, admiring how at ease he looked; he usually had a harder time with new people.  “Yeah, it’s been a lot better, he’s on new meds… how did you know about that?”

“He talks to me sometimes,” Sam admitted.  “And as someone who has played a PTSD-striken veteran in not one, but two major motion pictures, I’m sort of an expert,” he winked, but then got serious again.  “I would’ve asked him how he was doing myself but he wouldn’t let me ask him personal stuff on my birthday.”

“I bet he’d let you ask him for his opinion on the ring you just showed me.”

“Um, why would I want his opinion when he bought you that?” he grimaced, pointing at the ring on your finger.  “I mean, sapphires?  Really?”

“Cut it out,” you laughed, shoving him on the shoulder.

“Okay, fine,” he relented. 

“Are you coming to my premiere tomorrow, by the way?” you asked.  “I have it on good authority you were invited, since I demanded it.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he nodded, “Nat really wants to go, too.  She’s a big fan of your work.”

“Well, tell her she was great in that one about the missing girl,” you replied.  

“I’ll be sure to tell her exactly that.”

“We should head home, you know how early premiere prep starts,” you sighed with an exhausted roll of your eyes, finishing the last of your drink before grabbing Sam on the shoulder.  “Good luck with however you decide to pop the question with Nat.  Let me know if you need anything.”

He nodded and let you go, and once you got Bucky’s attention and said goodbye to Nat, the two of you made your way out back to the car.

“I’m glad you and Sam get along,” you reminded him as you squeezed his hand.

“What gives you that impression?” he scoffed.

You shook your head and smiled, letting him walk you to the car in silence.

Less than 24 hours later, you held his hand in just the same way as you sat beside each other in the screening auditorium, watching your latest film fade to black and hearing the crowd at the premiere— mostly cast, crew, and critics— erupt into applause.

"I have a little surprise for you," you whispered in his ear as the credits began to flash.

"I am not gonna let you blow me in this crowded theater," he instantly scolded.

"No, not that," you giggled, although you secretly wondered how much less crowded the theater would have to be for him to let you try it.  "Just wait until my name comes up."

Written and Directed by Hope Van Dyne

A Paramount Pictures Film

In Association with Europa

And then there it was, in big white letters, just as much of a trip to see as the first time you saw your name on the big screen.  But something very important had changed.

Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes

Everyone at the screening was clapping and cheering, but you were so focused on him that his whisper was the only thing you heard.  "Sweetheart," he gasped, and you smiled wide.  "You didn't have to—"

"I wanted to."

"It's just a stage name, if you want to keep it the same—"

"Buck, really.  I want your name there with mine."

"But your credits…" he protested, though the break in his voice made it clear he was tearing up.  "You're an actress and you've established your career already and it's so important to you—"

"Hey," you soothed, reaching up to brush your hand over his cheek, forcing him to look at you.  "Your wife is the most important thing I've ever been."

[wandsolsen]

Champagne Problems

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: In which Wanda rejected your marriage proposal, inspired by Taylor Swift's song Champagne Problems.

Warnings: pure angst, cursing.

Word Count: 1.8k

↳ Please, be aware that English isn't my first language, fell free to tell me if there are any mistakes.

You booked the midnight train for a reason, you wanted to contemplate your pain with your head against the train window.

The reason for your suffering had a name, Wanda Maximoff.

You sat down in one of the seats, feeling the hurt in your chest burning hard just for thinking about her. The train wasn't too much crowned, however, it wasn't all empty. There were people talking and people sleeping, you were not sure which was worse.

People looked at you, certainly worried about how miserable you were.

You finally rested your head on the train window, looking at the view from the outside. Unintentionally, you remembered Wanda's hand holding yours as the two of you danced on the dance floor.

Wanda smiled at you, and she looked happy. But she wasn't, at least, not complete. Not happy enough to say yes.

However, nobody could ever have thought that she would say no.

You felt the tears coming out, your mouth trembled as you remembered. Your heart was made of glass and she let it drop it.

You had prepared a speech, but when you got down on your knees, you didn't find the expression of emotion and excitement that you had imagined she would had. Instead, you saw Wanda's body tense and fear in her green eyes.

You were speechless.

She didn't even let you ask, she ran away, leaving you there, on your knees and crestfallen on the dance floor.

You were so broken that you hadn't the strength to reach out to her, Wanda's love escaped beyond your reaches.

You saw the pity look that your family and friends gave to you. You had told them that you were going to propose Wanda that night, you couldn't keep it a secret.

You had bought Dom Pérignon and one of your family members had already popped the bottle in an early celebration, it was humiliating.

"Maybe it's just one of her...What does she call? Oh, yeah," Steve remembered before anyone could answer him. "her champagne problems." Steve was trying to calm you down, but he wasn't succeeding.

Fuck Wanda, you thought, your veins filled with angry. Fuck her and her champagne problems.

But even with all the fury you were feeling, Wanda's picture was still in your wallet along with your mom's ring.

You didn't hate her for leaving, you could never hate her.

You remembered the first time you made Wanda blush, it was in November.

You both met in college, and you thought you were the luckiest person in the world for having Wanda as your roommate. She was organized, friendly and didn't ask too many questions, everything a person could want from a roommate.

"Someone said to me that this door was once a madhouse." You said to her, wanting to make small talk.

"Well, it's made for me." Wanda made a joke, and you chuckled.

"A beautiful and intelligent woman like you in a madhouse? I find it hard to believe."

"Beautiful people do have problems too." Wanda's face was getting flush.

"I know, I know." You said. "I just wanted to praise you because, well, you're definitely one of the most beautiful girls on the campus."

And there it was, Wanda's face all red and her shy smile on her lips. You felt your heart beating faster than usual at that moment.

"So do you?" You continued.

"Do what?"

"Have problems."

"Just champagne problems." She answered.

"Champagne problems?" You asked, with your furrowed eyebrows.

"Yes, nothing meaningful or worth mention," She explained. "when compared to the others issues around the world."

"Well, champagne or not, they're still problems."

She thought about your words for a moment, but didn't say anything. Wanda continued to devalue her own problems, claiming that her issues were insignificant and there were worse things in the world.

Wanda was very reserved in the beginning, it was usually you who started the conversations. It didn't take long for you to fall in love with her.

I mean, how could you not? She was gorgeous and caring. Wanda was kinder than the most people you had ever met. She was a dream girl, with her hair loose and long, her sweet smile and her funny laugh. The way she was always up to help someone in need, and how she tried to empathize with everyone.

Wanda was absolutely flawless.

You only asked her out on a date when you were sure she wouldn't reject you.

Now, seeing from afar, you could see how stupid you were. You should have waited, just kneeling after knowing for sure that she would say yes.

But that's the problem.

You had sure that Wanda would say yes with tears dropping from her eyes. Then, your song would have played, you would have kissed her and held her hand tight while dancing. Your friends would have cheered with joy, and Wanda would have hugged you with a radiant smile on her face.

You let out a breath of pain. You now lived with only wishes. Because she dropped your hand while dancing, instead of holding tight.

Just champagne problems, she would say, about this dramatic situation.

You had a black Chevy that Wanda loved, she enjoyed riding in your car, even if you never go anywhere special. And when the car stopped running and you decided that was time to buy a better one, Wanda didn't let you. Often you saw her on the passenger seat murmuring whatever song was playing on the radio.

Nevertheless, the Chevy wasn't going anywhere. Just like your relationship.

Feeling tired of sitting there in this hurt, you left the train and went to the nearest hotel that you could find, you didn't want to come back home anytime soon.

You lived in a small town, your failed marriage proposal was probably spreading in the mouth of people like a disease.

Your turn on your phone, there were many messages and missed calls from your friends, but no one of them matters to you. Except one.

There was one voicemail from Wanda. Just that. She didn't send you a dozen messages like your friends, just a voicemail.

You set down on the bed, before listening to her voice for the last time.

Hey, Y/N, it's me, Wanda. I think I owed you an apology for leaving you out there standing. I-I can't do this, I'm sorry.

Wanda's voice was trembling, it sounded like she was crying. Why was she crying? She left you, not the other way around.

You didn't know it was possible for your heart to break more, but it did. The sound of her painful voice would haunt you forever.

I really can't give you a reason, I guess I never was ready for commitment. Sometimes you just don't know the answer until someone gets on their knees and asks you, you know?

There was a long pause, so long that you thought the message was over. However, Wanda's voice filled the room again:

You deserve someone better than me, you always had. Someone who is not fucked up in the head like me, someone who will never hurt you like I did. You'll find a real thing out there, she will pick up the pieces of your broken heart and she will patch up your tapestry that I shredded. She will be so perfect that you will not remeber me, or all my champagne problems.

Your vision was blurred because of the tears that fall uncontrollably from your face.

Ours... your friends called, they all are worried about you, please contact them.

There was another long pause.

I lov...

Your heart started to race at the words she was about to say, but Wanda gave up halfway, as if realizing that the words were not true.

Goodbye, Y/N.

And that was it.

Four years of relationship saying goodbye in a voicemail of less than five minutes.

Your throat burned from holding on to crying for so long, you wanted to scream until your vocal cords burst.

You loved her more than anything, and she left as if it were nothing. As if your love meant nothing.

You took the picture of Wanda that was still on your wallet, and tore it into several pieces before throwing it in the trash.

Eventually, the sleep caught you while you were crying in the hotel bed, similar to a friendly hug in the midst of so much pain.

━━━━━━ ᗢ ━━━━━━

You heard that Wanda left town, without looking back, on the same day that she rejected your proposal.

Wanda's sweet perfume was still impregnate, along with your memories with her, in every room of the house that the two of you used to live. You didn't manage to stay there, it didn't take long for you to sell the house and buy an apartment in the city center.

You sold your black Chevy, there was no one around to stop you.

You also sold Wanda's things that she left behind, you didn't want anything to remind you of her. Because after the end of the day, you were still mad at Wanda. For leaving, for didn't give you a good reason, for making your waste four years of your life.

"She would've made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked in the head." That was probably the last thing that someone spoke about Wanda, before another big gossip emerge in your town and they eventually forgot the humiliation that she put you through.

At first, you stayed in your new apartment with your heart broken, just watching futile reality shows and eating junk food. Steve, your best friend, was there all the time giving you emotional support, even though he didn't always know how to say the right thing.

But eventually you had to face reality, after all, you suffering or not, life still went on.

It took two years before you were ready to fall in love again. And two years since you had heard from Wanda, you didn't know about her even on social media, since she had deleted them all.

It was as if Wanda had simply disappeared, little by little, she became a myth in your life, a ghost that haunted you from time to time. Not even your friends and family mentioned her name.

Sometimes you wondered if she really existed, if you haven't invented her in your head.

It was in a bar outside the town, that you met Natasha Romanoff. She was self-confident and carried a death look in her eyes, rigid on the outside, but soft on the inside. She had short red hair and was not very fond of wearing jewellery.

Totally different from Wanda.

Natasha was fun to be around, it was easy to understand her because she was always honest with you.

You started to date her on the very first day of summer. Then, after spending all the four seasons together, you started to carry your mom's ring in your pocket and Natasha's picture in your wallet.

And when you got on your knees, she didn't leave you crestfallen on the dance floor. She said yes, and held your hand tight while dancing.

However, in the end, Wanda was wrong.

You still remeber all her champagne problems.